


Game Of Monsters

by ChestOfStories



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2019-08-28 02:59:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 105,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16715298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChestOfStories/pseuds/ChestOfStories
Summary: A rather simple rescue mission at the Dam (season 3 finale) takes an unpredictable turn and carries the story into an utterly alternative season 4.





	1. Chapter 1

**THE DAM**

**PART 1**

"Look, if your mother finds out, she'll tell Daniel. If Daniel finds out, he'll try to kill me. Please, get your mother going."

Genuine fear in Victor's eyes was not a common sight. He looked nothing like the confident conman Nick got to know him as back in LA. Even with the old world rules he seemed to be a pro at, there were things he couldn't control or trick. No more than one man can trick a tsunami to roll around him as if he were Moses.

"Have a meal and then I'll decide what we do," Madison had told Nick earlier. The way she looked at him made him regret coming to help. He knew that look for many years, and he was profoundly sick of it.

This time was different, though. Uncalled for, so it stabbed deeper.

He always brushed it off, because he had to. There was no other way and it was the solid fact of all the blame resting on him. It was always on him. Had been every time, until this day. This day, he searched himself for the same willingness to brush it under the rug and move on, and suddenly couldn't. It was the worst moment to carry the bitterness around, but there it was.

'Get your mother going.'

' _I'll_ decide what  _we_  do.'

Nick wondered if there was more despise coming when he would let her know that he would decide for himself. It was the most bizarre thing, if he considered and analyzed all the circumstances before they came here, but his time alone with Troy had shifted something in him. Nick didn't want to be decided for, anymore. He couldn't go back to it after having tasted something better. With no knowing despise shed on him for any of it.

He didn't find her where he peeked, but there was Daniel. Ofelia's rosary dangling from his fingers.

Not a good sign.

"Your mother is wiring the dam with your friend," he said. Nick nodded and turned to leave, but Daniel didn't let him. "Nick, please, sit with me. I wanna ask you something."

Nick sighed and let the door close, coming down the stairs.

* * *

Proctor John winced subtly as Alicia peeled the soiled bandages off his back with forceps and tweezers, and she could hear him inhale as if trying to keep his own reaction contained. He was a tough man, that was for sure. She didn't know it was possible to walk and move the way he did just a mere hour after having spinal surgery. She supposed he still had some Oxycontin in his system, but it still didn't explain his near-miraculous recovery.

"You have a high pain threshold." A simple truth not meant to flatter.

"Years of living with a white Buddhist with a sharp tongue and a yoga mat," Proctor John answered immediately, lifting his head slightly.

"I hear narcissists are drawn to Buddhism." The words slipped from her mouth before she could truly take the time to consider them, whether it was wise to insult her captor who her continued survival was now depending on. Probably not.

He turned a little to look over his shoulder. From her current vantage point, she couldn't tell if he was offended.

"The truth of the real self is a lie, as it is in every religion."

Alicia didn't know what to make of that.

Voices called out from somewhere outside, maybe below them. She prayed it wasn't someone of hers. Seeing Strand down by the canal as she arrived with The Proctors had damn near given her a heart attack. She hadn't truly made the connection between the bikers' destination and her family's current location until she saw him. This was the very reason she had decided to go off on her own after the massacre at the ranch. Being responsible for her own safety – that she could handle. But to continuously bear witness to the people she loved being in danger… It had become too hard. Too painful. And as time passed and certain events unfolded, she wasn't even sure she belonged with some of those people, anymore. They were too different.

"And I detest liars," Proctor John continued as she readied a new bandage. "Above all else. Strand's an excellent example. How do you know him?"

Alicia stilled, but only for a moment before fixing the gauze in place, ensuring it would stay until it next needed to be changed. She didn't say anything.

Should she lie? Or tell the truth? Would it make a difference?

"Hmm?" He tilted his head to look at her after she pulled his shirt back down and moved to put the medical instruments away. "Alicia?" His voice was soft, coaxing, deceivingly nice. Like that of a father speaking to his daughter. "I've made my living holding others to the light."

"Strand helped my family escape from Los Angeles." He'd made a threat. It was subtle but she recognized it. And she acted accordingly.

"And you didn't acknowledge him because you felt indebted to him?"

She turned to face John. "Yes, we've gotten to know him."

"A lie of omission is still a lie, Alicia."

"I thought my mother was here," she admitted, not at all liking the direction this conversation had taken. It made her feel uneasy, as if she was somehow putting her family's heads on the chopping block. "She and Strand are friends."

John Proctor watched her a moment, then nodded, lowering his gaze as he asked: "What's your mother's name?"

Once more time, she hesitated. "...Madison."

He smiled. It wasn't a nasty smile, not the kind you'd usually expect a guy like him to wear. But it still felt wrong. Off.

"She is here," he said, making her heart constrict with sudden panic. "Or was. One of Strand's deal points for letting us in, we'd spare a woman by the name of Madison. I hope we haven't killed her yet."

The very possibility they might have made her feel nauseous. Was he testing her? Curious to see how she would react? If she would lash out with violence or fall to her knees and plead with him?

Alicia tried to keep her voice steady as she spoke. "If she is alive and here, would you spare her?"

For a moment, it seemed he was considering it. For a moment, she remained hopeful.

"Your mother was a part of a larger negotiation. And that negotiation collapsed," he said, pushing away from the desk he had been leaning against and moving towards her. He picked up the gun lying next to the bag of medical equipment and slipped it into the holster at his hip. "Strand's lies."

It was getting harder to breathe. Harder to think. She couldn't find it in her to meet his gaze for a while. She was feeling nowhere near confident. So she had to fake it.

"I've served you well in a short time," she said, stepping closer to him, chin held high. "I can continue to do so."

He seemed to like having a 'nurse' at his side anyway, and for the next week or so, he would definitely be in need of someone to help him with his recovery.

"You can trust me. Spare her."

He considered the girl for a long moment, eyes narrowing in thought but never wavering from hers.

"I will if you come with me to Tampico. We'll board my ship and sail for what's left of Houston. Will you do that?"

She swallowed. "You're testing my loyalty?"

He breathed a laugh, shaking his head. "I'm testing your wisdom."

The prospect of going anywhere else with this man, with his crew of rowdy bikers, sent shivers down her spine. And not the good kind. If she did this, she would not be safe for a very long time. She would be a slave. But what choice did she have? If there was a chance he would not harm her mother, she needed to take it.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I'll do that."

Proctor John smiled. "Good."

* * *

Troy shadowed Madison out of the central office, grateful to be away from the 'others', the outsiders that meant as little as a throwing stone.

Especially the older Mexican man.

Troy didn't like what he saw in his eyes. It was too similar to the animosity he'd seen in Travis, and from experience, that wasn't going to bode well for any kind of civility.

Troy didn't deserve it, did he? He'd convinced Nick to set down his shot glass and to come to the dam, to help his mother and everyone else because that was the right thing to do – not for her – but for him.

He might be in his own space right now, but if she died, he'd feel responsibility for it.

At least that had been the initial reasoning.

Being alone with her, watching her handle the C4 as if she feared it would detonate in her hand was fascinating, reminding Troy that, despite her bravery, she also had a breaking point.

"You don't have to worry," he supplied, walking up behind her, picking up the block she'd been fingering carefully, tossing it into the air as if it were a hacky sack.

Madison's eyes widened, features pinched with accusation and fear as she took an inadvertent step back. He'd never had this type of power over her before, not even in the past, and to see that mask slip was intoxicating. Even more so than the drugs Nick had encouraged him to take last night. Had Troy witnessed that the first day or even later when she had wormed her way into the folds of Otto home, into his head, things would have been a lot different, and his ranch would have survived her destructive force.

He caught it and smirked. "Did you know that even a bullet wouldn't set this thing off?"

Madison's terror swept away, replaced by incredulity. "Now is not the time to be playing games, Troy, people's lives are at stake."

"Who's playing? I just thought it would be easier to give you an example of how stable it is than to watch you trying to figure out how best to fairy it into the tunnels."

She looked exasperated. "Grab the rest," she ordered in that singularly condescending tone she possessed when dealing with a disorderly child – with him. A quirk that reminded him too much of his own mother.

Troy dropped the block onto the pile and dipped to his haunches, counting them off in his head, mentally noting that, if they were to detonate it in the end, there wouldn't be much escape for anyone.

They'd all be flattened, and those below would be the first to go.

He would have to talk to Nick about that.

"Do you even know anything about bombs?" he asked, directing a look at Madison as she tried to sift through the rest of the stuff in search of anything that might scream destruction.

She was like a fish out of water.

He crossed the space and peered into the boxes, handing her the one that had wires and detonator. He emptied two of the others in a corner and returned to the C4.

When they exited the storeroom five minutes later, Madison was edgy and in possession of her solute face again.

* * *

"It was Jake."

It wasn't a question, but yet it was. Daniel's eyes bore into Nick's daring to lie again.

Nick held the stare and did: "It was Jake."

After a long moment of silent staring contest, Daniel tossed him the keys. "Your mother will be happy to see you."

Nick nodded and got up and started away, but paused a second. "I'm sorry."

_It was Jake. It was Jake. You killed Jake's father?_

Daniel's eyes, sharp and probing, kept staring at Nick inside his mind, his mouth kept asking with that statement tone uttering the wrong name. The wrongly stained name.

And it was hard to keep track of reality as it mixed up with what had been before Nick came down to the tunnels where his mother and Troy were busy with the C4. It was like some divine hand had spilt ink of the past into the clear water of now, and it was all blending together like magic around him, leaving him a helpless witness to something dark and dreadful. He couldn't quite tell what it was, but every fiber of his body and soul was trembling, like one's hair standing on ends when a lightning is about to strike.

"You got them all killed." Despise soaking Madison's voice. Nick could see her face clearly in his head even standing behind them facing her back. "You had no right."

"I had every right," Troy played back. "I had every, every right. That was my home, and you gave me that right. You allowed me to run. I'd do it all again. All of it, Madison. And you would, too, you know you would, 'cause you understand, 'cause you see things—"

A gunshot thundered; they both jumped.

She turned, her eyes, wide with momentary horror, locked on Nick, then to the side – on his hand squeezing the gun's handle. A faint breath of smoke left the muzzle and disappeared. A few cement splinters fell down from the ceiling where the bullet hit.

Nick's eyes were black ice stabbing into her. He lowered the gun and held out another hand, beckoning.

"Come on, Troy, we gotta leave."

His eyes never left his mother's. A black storm of astonishment, disgust and weariness twirled in them. Her hand drawing back to swing the hammer at Troy kept replaying in his mind. He never felt himself grabbing the gun – his body did before a conscious thought could form. It was like inside the mixing past and present, a droplet of future had fallen, and Nick could see Troy going down with a bleeding hole in his temple, and a piece of his bloodied skin stuck on the hammer in her hand while she watched with grim satisfaction.

"Nick—" she started.

"No," he said. "You have no right."

She looked astonished, unbelieving, as if he'd just started to speak Chinese. And then, it dawned on her, turning her spine into ice. "You knew."

Nick's face was calm and inscrutable. "I know what he's done. He knows what I've done. I know what you've done. You don't get to make that call."

Her hand with the hammer pointed at Troy like an accusing sword. "He got them all killed. He killed them all, Nick. He killed—"

"I've killed, too!" he yelled. "Wanna take a swing at me first? Go ahead." He tossed the gun on the ground and spread his arms, made a step toward her. "Do it. DO IT."

Troy had shifted closer toward Nick and now stared, wide-eyed, from one to another, like watching a tennis duel.

Madison winced. "Are you seriously comparing now—"

"There's no fucking comparing anything, mom!" Nick rapped out the words as if she had a problem understanding him. "There's not a single person left in this fucked-up world who has his hands clean. Don't you get it? The ranch is gone. It's GONE. They're all gone. You don't turn back time with this – it's just that: another kill. Another one down. Nothing more."

"He's a murderer, Nick! He's always been. He destroys everything around him."

"And you don't?! Every place we've been thus far is dead, mom. DEAD, because you think you have that right."

"Don't you dare! You and your sister are alive because we did what we had to. Because I did everything I could to protect my family."

"Did you? Did you, mom? Tell that to Chris. Tell that to Travis."

She made three rapid steps and slapped him. The sound was like another gunshot; it made Troy jump a little.

Nick slowly turned his head to face her again, his cheek stinging. Rage was flaring in her eyes. Nick looked at her, the corners of his mouth twitched ironically. He gave a few subtle, knowing nods, and fell back a step, then another.

She remembered to breathe and took an urgent inhale. "Don't do that, Nick. Your sister needs you. Don't make her pay for my mistakes. I need you. Don't do this to us. To yourself."

"You know nothing of what I need," he said. "You never did. Dad never did."

"You can't be with him, you can't be protecting him. You're choosing a monster over your closest people, Nick. Please. You, Alicia and I - we're all we have in the whole world." She turned to Troy with desperate anger. "You can go. Just go and leave him be."

"Where does it stop, mom?" Nick asked.

She turned to him, her face a question.

"Me, stepping into the same trap, somehow believing that this time it would magically pan out differently; you stepping over corpses to do what you believe is right for everyone... Where does it stop?"

"You can't say that," she snapped. "Everything I ever did was to keep you all safe. For Alicia, for you-"

"Not for me!" he yelled, his eyes blazing. "For YOU, for your selfish need to control everything and everyone."

"I did things I'm not proud of, yes, I did! But you can't judge me! You can't judge a mother for protecting her children. I had no choice! And one day, you won't have a choice."

"Yeah, that's the scary part, mom: someday I won't have a choice. And someday, you won't have a choice with me."

"I would never hurt you," she breathed, dismayed that he would suggest something like that.

"You never know. But I do, mom. I do now." He glanced at Troy: "Let's go."

"Nick," she made to catch his sleeve, to stall him, but didn't. Her hand jerked and fell back. "Don't walk away from us, Nick. Don't walk away from Alicia, she doesn't deserve it. Please, Nick. Nick!"

Nick climbed up the metal railing steps without looking back.

Troy picked up the discarded gun and followed. He threw a single gander over his shoulder, saw Madison put a hand on her face, another still gripping the hammer. He had noticed she started to swing it. He could swear he had. If not for Nick...

Her face changed. Another realization dawned on her, and she grabbed onto it because all other bridges were crumbling away.

"What is there between you two, really? Is THAT what this is? You… you  _chose_  him?"

Nick walked away, never faltering in his step. "It's none of your business, anymore."

Troy jogged, catching up with his friend. Neither spoke for another few moments.

"Thanks," Troy ventured.

"Don't." Nick looked straight ahead; his face reflected no emotion. "Don't talk to me right now."

"Okay," Troy mouthed, looking down as he picked his steps. Then looked up again, remembering. "But the dam... We won't help?"

"No. Not anymore."

"The proctors will kill her. You know that, right?"

Nick stopped, sucked in a breath, and turned to look at him.

Troy was surprised to discover he was not doing so good at reading his friend's face. Nick seemed both angry and tired to him. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Nick had changed back there in the tunnels. But there was no time to analyze it.

Troy produced a detonator from somewhere under his jacket and brandished it, smiling.

Nick pondered, nodded. "Okay. We need a hiding place. They might be already here."

He jogged past Troy. Troy smirked and followed.

The winds had changed. Troy could feel it under his skin. It was not an unpleasant feeling. Not at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**THE DAM**

**PART 2**

The proctors had indeed arrived; they were scattering around the dam to secure every possible way out. Troy and Nick snuck into one of the maintenance rooms, waiting out a team marching past on their patrol.

"I need you to get out of here, find a gun, and take a position that overlooks the dam bridge," Nick said when it was safe to whisper. He locked his eyes on Troy's, hoping he could make the stubborn Otto listen closely. "I need to find them and see what I can do. You can't go because Daniel will shoot you on sight. He's desperate, he was about to torture the confession out of me. I did all I could to convince him the horde was Jake's work, but I don't think he truly bought it. You need to get out of here asap. Do you understand?"

Troy's eyebrows shot up at the revelation that Daniel had threatened Nick with torture about what had happened at the ranch, and that Nick still hadn't sold him out. Clark could have very easily thrown him under the bus, could have disposed of him or let Madison do it as she'd unwittingly intended and be free of the walking complication he appeared to be for this family's conscience.

"You detonate that C4, Nick, and this place will crumble like a sandcastle. You'll die. There has to be another way you can get through to your mother. A radio?"

"There isn't another way," Nick rapped the words out, much like he did to his mother earlier. "I need to do this. You know it, I know it. But I need your help. I need you to back me up with that favorite gun of yours. You need to sneak out, get to our car and grab the gun. Try not to get caught, it's not just my life depending on it."

There was always another way, multiple ways, Troy knew and believed it, they just didn't have the time to find it or discuss it more thoroughly.

"Fine," he countered, aware that Clark's stubborn streak wouldn't allow for much in the way of a debate and that, like with Madison, Nick's mind was made up. "But give me the detonator. If I see things are getting out of hand and I'm sure you're able to get away, I'll make the call. I've more experience in this area."

Nick winced in defiance. "I'm not giving you shit. I asked you to do one thing, and you either do it or don't, okay? I need to go now, there's no more time."

He pushed past Troy to the door, hesitated at it, and turned to give Otto's arm a squeeze.

"Don't get killed."

With that, Nick slipped out of the door and trotted down the corridor.

* * *

A few of the proctors passed outside the windows, hauling two men along with them, guns trained at their heads. The prisoners spoke in rapid Spanish, too quickly for Alicia to make much sense of other than a few words here and there such as 'please' and 'mercy'.

She was starting to feel nauseous again. She cleaned her hands with a wet wipe from the medical bag and looked up at John from under her eyelashes. "What are you doing to them?"

He followed his men's progress with his gaze until they were out of sight. "You know what I'm going to do."

She did. It wasn't hard to guess. She had already heard several shots go off in the distance. And still, a part of her hoped she had been wrong. "The deal you made with Strand–"

"–is null and void."

"Yes, you said so. But… what was the deal exactly?"

She had caught snippets of their conversation when they arrived at the dam, but she was nowhere certain her assumptions were right. What had Strand promised to do in return for her mother's safety?

John scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked tired, which, considering his day, was not all that surprising.

"Strand was supposed to facilitate our takeover of the dam. In return, he'd be made steward of this place. He'd take care of things while I was elsewhere. That and safety for your mother and her kids. But as you saw when we came in, the corpses in the water, Strand didn't uphold his end of the bargain."

Alicia couldn't say she was surprised. Victor Strand, despite having had his good moments, craved power and wealth. It made sense he would bargain for such a position.

"Facilitate the takeover," she repeated, frowning. "What does that mean?"

John looked at her, lips twitching in a miniscule crooked smile. "Make sure we were met with no resistance from the workers. And if that was to become a problem, well… he was supposed to kill 'em, darlin'."

* * *

Nick found his mother in one of the tunnels; she was at the exit.

"You can't go there, they're everywhere," he said. Her face brightened with hope as she saw him.

"Nick—"

"Troy left, and I won't be discussing any of it with you right now, okay? Let's focus on getting out in one piece."

She nodded.

"There you are," Victor called from a bridge over them. "Hurry, follow me, there's no time."

They did. He pushed them into a tiny maintenance room. Then Madison turned on him, pressing him into a wall with a gun to his chest.

"Daniel took you in, they gave you sanctuary."

"Temporary sanctuary at best," Victor played back. "Proctor John was coming. I made a deal to save you."

"You made a deal to save your own ass," Nick put in.

"And I told you to get Madison outta here," Victor turned on Nick, his eyes bulging. "I told you to leave! But you had to be stubborn. Can you please remove the gun?" When she didn't immediately oblige, he swallowed, and added: "Alicia's here."

Nick gaped at him, feeling his heart thumping in his throat. Madison's face paled.

"She's here with Proctor John. He brought her here."

"It doesn't make any sense," Madison said.

"He likes his toys," Victor reasoned, making Nick's stomach churn. Nick closed his eyes momentarily to hold off sickness. "Maybe he likes her enough to let you go. But I wouldn't bet on it."

Madison let him go, and he tossed two uniforms at them.

"Put these on."

"Why?" Nick asked.

"It's how I move you through the dam. I'll walk you out right under their noses." Victor looked pleadingly, and when they didn't move, he asked: "Can you just do it?"

He was sweating bad now, Nick never saw him that scared before. It made Nick feel worse, for all of them. Mostly, for Alicia. He couldn't bring himself to think of what Strand insinuated. It was too out of the world his sister was built for. She didn't deserve such dirt, such pain and humiliation. No one did, but Alicia…

Nick sucked in a breath, pushing the thought away, and started to dress.

"Your time has come, hasn't it?" Madison noted, eyeballing Strand with bitter irony.

"Please, put on the damn uniforms," he begged.

"What did you do?" she asked, not moving, staring him down like he was the lowest scum she'd ever seen. Same look she used on Troy down in the tunnels. "Who was it?"

Nick watched, feeling the bad news about Alicia wasn't the last one yet.

Victor sighed and confessed: "Daniel."

"Jesus Christ!" she hissed.

"I did it for you!" he blurted, drawing a sickening parallel in Nick's brain.

"Don't say that!"

"He was alive when I left him."

"You shot Daniel?" Nick asked, having found his voice.

"I didn't kill him. It was the worst thing that's ever happened to me." Strand looked him in the eye in a way that was impossible to doubt his sincerity, but Nick thought back to when he had to shoot the man he claimed to love, and wondered. He didn't want to dwell and just proceeded to put the uniform on.

"And Lola?" Madison asked.

"I let her go. I couldn't do it."

"Good," Nick commented, putting a worker cap on. "There's still hope for you."

Nick shot a meaningful look at his mother she didn't like to hold; she started to dress herself. Victor insisted on taking the detonator, and she backed him up. Nick wasn't going to fight them over it. A death wish wasn't on his list today.

What happened on the bridge was a small disaster. It was like in that saying: what could go wrong went wrong. Lola showed up shooting the proctors, and took a bunch with her before they put her down. After that show, no one let the Clarks and Strand pass. They were ushered into the glass office, and there, next to a tall man in his late forties, stood Nick's sister.

The siblings barely exchanged glances, but Nick was glad to see her in one piece and without any visible injuries. As for the concealed ones, he didn't want to think about it. Not yet.

Alicia's mouth went dry the moment the door opened and a throng of familiar faces pushed through and into the room. There they all were – Mom, Strand, and Nick.

_Shit. Nick's here?_

She had hoped he'd decided to take a detour with Troy after they left her a few days ago. Not because Troy was good company, but because she wanted her brother to be anywhere but here.

Alicia went out on her own to avoid situations like this, and yet here they were once again. As though fate herself willed it. Ironic.

The atmosphere became tense, increasingly so. Proctor John eyed Strand wearily.

"I am mystified," he said, calm as ever.

Strand immediately jumped to his own defense.

"I can explain."

"I'm sure you can but I don't wanna hear it," John countered.

"I was gonna kill them myself."

John stepped out of the way and his right-hand man rushed forth to slam the butt of his gun against Strand's face. Strand went down on the floor, groaning.

Alicia inhaled sharply, looking between the two men uncertainly. "John…"

"Shut up, darlin'," he responded without pause. She obeyed, swallowing her protests as John addressed Strand again. "I'm told the woman we dispatched was the "Water Queen," whom you were supposed to kill, and here she springs up like goddamn Whack-a-Mole. One wonders, is soldado alive and waiting to assassinate me?"

Strand peered up at him from the floor. "He's dead, I swear."

The other Proctor delivered a kick to Strand's abdomen, and down he went once more.

"He's telling the truth." It was Madison who spoke this time, making Alicia clench her teeth behind her closed lips.

_Stay quiet, Mom. Please, stay quiet._

"He confessed to me," Madison continued. "And I believe him."

And why would that matter, Alicia wondered to herself, her mind spinning with fear for what was going to happen. She dared a quick look at Nick. He didn't look concerned in the least but that didn't mean he wasn't. He was just better at hiding it.

Nick could feel himself rolling his eyes inwardly as Madison just had to put her five cents in. He wondered whether she cared about Victor or she merely thought she could still use him for their advantage. Nick hated himself for that thought, but it was there, solid and proud and unwilling to leave.

Proctor John studied her with an ironic smirk. "You're Madison."

"I am," she nodded. "I'm Madison Clark."

He smiled endearingly and turned to Alicia. "Go to your mother, dear. Let's see a joyful family reunion. Please." Alicia obeyed. They hugged like two strangers. John went on to Nick. "And what role do you play in this family drama?"

"He's my son," Madison piped up. Nick kept silent, feeling it unnecessary to nod and smile.

"This one was with another white boy, acting bizarre, asking questions," one of the proctors said. Nick recalled seeing him at El Bazar. That wasn't good, but no worse than the rest of this bloody theater piece.

"Is your friend here, Nick?" John asked.

"No, he's dead, my mom killed him," Nick responded, not even skipping a beat. It would have been the truth had he not fired that gun. Her eyes narrowed slightly with either hurt or reprimand or both, but she didn't deny it. She jerked her chin high as John looked at her with new eyes.

"Wow," he said. "Really? You killed your son's friend?"

"Was more a threat than friend," she said, deadpan.

John chuckled. "What a perverse family you have, Alicia from Los Angeles. You've been a good nurse to me. But you know what I have to do now."

"Wait, listen to me—" Madison started.

John's smile evaporated. "Shut up, mother. I have to kill her because I'm going to kill her brother. I'll never be able to trust her again after that." He looked at Alicia. "I'll kill you first so you don't have to witness what follows. But you, mother-killer," he continued, his eyes flicking to Madison, "you bear witness."

Nick sighed quietly. It all felt like some kind of a fucked up déjà vu loop. Like he had seen it all before but in another form, in another lifetime. He searched himself for fear or despair and couldn't find anything to label like that. Maybe he had exhausted his emotions for today. He merely felt tired. The only bitter feeling in his heart was for Alicia. She was paying too high a price for trying so hard to be better than her mother and brother could ever hope to be.

Whenever Alicia would watch scary movies with her friends in the past, she always assumed she'd be one of those people who cried and begged for mercy if faced with the threat of an execution. Turned out, that was not the case.

She was not void of fear when The Proctor's final judgement fell. She even felt a little betrayed, which, in hindsight, was a silly thing. He was right; she had been a good nurse to him. Maybe if she hadn't, maybe if she had ensured the operation failed and doomed this man to a life in a wheelchair, things would have ended differently for her mom and Nick. Alicia'd be dead. They might not be.

Coulda, shoulda, woulda, as Nick liked to say. There was no use dwelling on such thoughts now. It was already too late to go back.

The group of bikers led them outside and onto a giant bridge. Madison clutched Alicia's hand in hers so tightly it hurt, her other arm wrapped in Nick's as they solemnly made their way to their final destination.

Alicia was afraid, but not to the extent she would have expected. Mostly she was just tired. She remembered telling Ofelia once something along the lines of: You don't get tired of surviving. You just push on.

But she thought she understood now how Ofelia had felt. It was a tiring thing, this new existence of theirs, and though most days her instincts were still to ensure her survival, there were moments… Just moments where she wished she could rest.

"Say your goodbyes, if you have them," Proctor John called out from behind them.

The three of them came to a halt, and after a few seconds hesitation, embraced one another. Wedged between her Mom and brother, Alicia pressed her face to Nick's shoulder, trying to inhale his familiar scent one last time. But he didn't smell like himself. The jacket he was wearing was not his own.

There wasn't time to say anything before a giant bearded man grabbed her by the arm and hauled away. Someone did the same with Madison, guiding them further down the bridge.

* * *

Troy muttered a prayer as soon as Nick left, resolutely attempting to summon the help of a higher power he hadn't visited in years and regarded as a last ditch effort to keep Nick safe.

If there was an afterlife beyond walking the earth as a corpse, then Jeremiah was rolling in his grave.

He checked the amount of bullets left in Nick's gun and headed out, keeping low and against the side of the building, watching out for the Mexican, Madison and anyone not on their assumed team.

_Their_ team.

Troy'd been downgraded in the tunnels.

Gunshots boomed left and right as he started his approach for the gates, coming from every direction, leaving little doubt that proctor and his men had decided to do a clean sweep of the place. His only hope was that Nick wasn't part of the filth, and that he'd grabbed his mother and run.

A few of the bikers guarded the gate. They were taking no prisoners, shooting anyone not wearing their leathers, putting down any dead and anyone who'd missed the memo and was senseless enough to beg for water.

Troy watched and waited, biding his time.

When they didn't move, weren't summoned away to help take care of another part of the dam, and no one else came to join them, shots still ringing out, he flattened himself to the ground and freed up Nick's gun from his hip. He took aim, falling into sync with the mayhem, confident that whatever was going on would disguise his objective, and put the first one down. A clean hit that penetrated the shoulder and sent the man sprawling onto his back, his companion blindly retaliating in Troy's direction.

Troy fell back, keeping low, counting out the biker's bullets trying to assess what weapons they were using and then—thinking he had it—fired again, hitting the second in the stomach. The man cried out in pain and drove Troy to his feet. As the last standing Otto ran, he shot at the first wounded man's wrist as he attempted to raise his gun, nailing the second as he clawed at his stomach, and then finished off the first.

Troy crouched beside them, casting a look in the direction of the main area of the dam, half-expecting to see someone coming to their aid. No one did.

He confiscated their guns, their bullets and their radio, and took off toward the gate at a sprint, no longer looking back, heading for the vehicle they'd hidden in the hills.

He hadn't been scavenging very long when a command came through the radio, an instruction to keep a close eye on things while they moved to the bridge.

Troy tossed the guns into the backseat of the Jeep, found his rifle beneath the bags and other stuff to keep wandering eyes from getting itchy, and headed for the hills to get a better vantage point.

* * *

The proctors convoyed their prisoners back onto the bridge. Lola was still there, dead, propped against the side like she was snoozing. Victor shuffled behind them, and they strolled like the fucking perfect family, Madison between her kids, her arms interlaced with theirs.

Nick stole a few glances at Alicia, gauging if she was scared. She didn't look petrified, but he knew she was. It was natural. Even if he had a moment with her alone, he wouldn't find any words to express how sorry he was to have her in this shit where only Madison and he deserved to be along with Victor, who they would flank on their way to hell.

"Say your goodbyes, if you have any," John offered.

Madison collected her children in a group hug. Nick studied Victor over her shoulder. Strand looked defeated and horrified. Nick wondered briefly about Troy's whereabouts, but it wasn't the most important thing at the moment. His dark eyes lingered on Victor. He still carried something Nick needed back. Two proctors yanked Alicia and Madison from him, Nick walked around them for Victor, his arms spreading.

"Safe travels," he offered.

"Thank you," Strand said, accepting the embrace.

"Enough," John said.

Nick delivered a loud kiss to Strand's bearded cheek and detached from him, walking back to his family, hands in pockets. He stopped at the fence, overlooking the vast lake, then looked back at Strand and the proctors behind him. Strand's face shifted into more confidence.

"There's an endgame here, Proctor, one for which you didn't plan."

"You really do talk too much," John said, seemingly bored.

"Lola and Daniel didn't have enough guns to defend the dam, so they wired it with explosives."

"Bullshit," one of the proctors said.

"Top to bottom," Strand continued, "C4 to build the dam, C4 to take it down." He smiled. Nick glimpsed the shadow of what he had met in a cage for the first time.

"Take his tongue already," John commanded with the same bored tone.

"No more lies, Proctor," Strand boasted, backing away from the man and searching his coat's pockets. His smile was slipping off. Nick was leaning against the cement border, finding himself subtly amused. The feeling left quickly, though, leaving just the same weariness behind.

"You got a hole in your pocket?" the proctor following him asked, seeing panic on Strand's face as he still patted at his coat. They grabbed Victor, pulling his arms behind him. His face was that of a small cornered animal that watches the predator's teeth closing in.

"Strand," Nick called, raising the detonator in his hand. Strand looked at the boy like it was a ghost of his Thomas. "Says it's armed."

John's face pinched in annoyance. One of his men put a gun to Madison's head. Nick finally felt the ice of fear flooding his spinal cord from bottom to top. He could see in his mind's eye how her head would jerk and blood would flow. He wasn't ready to let himself feel it, see it. He wasn't.

"Nick," Strand said, his eyes pleading. "Don't touch the other button."

Nick looked at the device and flipped the second red switch up, revealing the second button. He looked at Strand, smiling subtly. "What, the one that says  _Detonate_?"

* * *

Even as the men dragged them away, Madison refused to let go of Alicia's hand, clutching as if her daughter was a very expensive handbag she was worried might be snatched away. Her palm was sweaty. No doubt Alicia's was the same. Alicia squeezed her fingers, silently trying to reassure her mom it was okay. That she, Alicia, was okay.

Her attention snapped back to the other side where Strand and Proctor John were still standing at the mention of explosives.

Was that true? Or was Strand bluffing? He was good at that. A skilled liar. But what would be the point if he had no proof? Proof he seemed to lack, judging by the lost look on his face as he patted himself down.

Nick, who was hovering near the railing between our two groups, called out to Strand, and all eyes turned to him. He held up a device for all to see. A detonator.

A gun was cocked and pushed to the back of their mother's head. Alicia forced herself not to look despite her racing heart and the urge to pull her away from the lethal weapon, her gaze solely on Nick.

That low murmur of fear felt before, grew and expanded inside her until her legs began to tremble subtly. And yet, she became aware of another niggling sensation. Satisfaction. A Fuck you to these men who were about to end their lives in cold blood. Nick had the power to take them down, as well.

Nick raised the detonator again, his thumb under the second silver switch, ready to push it up. The Proctor John studied him.

"What's your play, Nick?"

Nick looked around and pointed at his men in front of me surrounding Victor. One of them had his gun trained on Nick.

"Tell him to put his gun down," he said.

"Put your gun down."

The guy did, glaring as Nick walked past him to another fence to look at what path the river would take after it was free. Strand watched him, lost and confused. It would have been very funny if it wasn't getting to such a sad note in the end. Nick returned to another side he originally occupied, and surveyed the water below and its banks.

"My mom and sister are gonna take the zodiac across the lake."

"Nick, don't do this," Madison asked.

"Just go as far up the river as you can," he told her.

"We'll pursue them," John said.

"They'll have a head start."

Alicia frowned, unable to keep from protesting once her brother's intentions became clear. He was going to sacrifice himself for the two of them.

"Nick, just come with us," she asked, a note of desperation creeping into her voice. "Please."

"He can't do that, nurse," Proctor John declared. "The detonator has a range. If you go with them, you lose your leverage, right?"

* * *

There hadn't been enough time to get to too higher ground but Troy's vantage point of the bridge as he settled in the dirt on a rock was clear enough to make a scene, obstructing only a few of the twenty or so men gathered together behind the fence.

He peered through the scope on the top of his rifle, and his heart turned cold. They had the Clarks.

ALL of them.

Fuck! Why hadn't Nick grabbed her and fled? And where the hell had Alicia come from?

Troy didn't have to be there, either, to hear his threats or know what he'd intended.

Otto jumped from his position and charged back to the Jeep, setting the rifle down in the passenger seat, quickly starting the engine, desperate to find higher ground closer, determined to provide any and all assistance that he could to keep Nick from pressing that button.

* * *

Nick didn't bring himself to look at Alicia, to see the pleading in her face. He saw it so many times and never listened, never kept the promises he showered her with. He couldn't look at her now and say no. He had a deeply buried fear that it would break him, break all this fragile ice he was dancing upon to maybe save them. He no longer remembered or cared whether Troy was in position. It was so far away, in another solar system altogether.

"I'm not negotiating, John," he said. "This is my suicide note."

"It certainly seems to be," John agreed, irked. Wishing looks could kill – the little bastard would drop dead then and stop being such a nuisance.

Nick forced himself to look back at his family. Madison was shaking her head, grieving already. Alicia… The utter loss on her face snapped something inside of him. He strolled toward them, feeling all eyes on him scorching, but only caring about them. He hated hurting them. He had been doing it all his life. And now that it was necessary, it somehow hurt the most.

"Go," he said, his eyes on Madison, the other parallel, no less bitter, surfacing in his head. "Cause you have no choice. If you don't go, we all die. So just go." He strolled closer, locking his eyes with his mother's to make her listen at least this once. "Mom, please. Go." He waved a hand along the bridge, inviting them to do as he asked.

They did. Madison had Alicia's hand in hers, pulling her forward and past Nick. They barely crossed gazes, and then they were walking away into the sunset, like in some shitty-ass poetry Nick always loathed.

He looked at Strand. "You, too, go, get in the boat."

Strand uttered his name, ready to object, although Nick read in his eyes loud and clear that he wanted to. He wanted to live.

"You wanted mercy – here it is," he said simply. "Just take care of them, all right?"

Strand understood. He nodded, grateful, assuring and sad. Nick truly saw it there – sadness for him. It was a nice touch. He had Nick's gratitude for it, too, only Nick couldn't voice it as he was walking after them already.

"It's all right," John said. "There'll be time to find them later."

"You don't survive this," Nick reacted, letting a spark of anger to flare. It made him feel less tired. It gave him hope to see it all through.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. Many have slipped between the cup and the lip. I'm interested to see how it all plays out. Not well for you either way, I'm afraid."

"I'm not afraid of dying," Nick informed him, hating the tears collecting in the base of his throat in a lump. He already missed them. Missed his mom the way he always wanted her to be. His dear sister that he loved so damn much he never had enough words or actions to express it and so he always had been failing in the worst of ways. And the very worst thing this time was that he wouldn't get another chance. Whether Troy was or wasn't out there to cover for him, Nick wasn't sure he could play god and make this pit he had chased himself into any shallower. He didn't feel he could get out.

John didn't look impressed. "The bravado of a junky Christ. That detonator real?"

Nick was holding it up, tempted to press it right away. But they weren't gone yet. Not. Yet. Every passing second made him ache.

* * *

Everything went quiet all of a sudden. All sounds became muffled, and Alicia's vision was blurred and askew. She felt her mother tug her away, and her legs moved of their own accord, but for most of their trek across the bridge, Alicia didn't comprehend what had just happened.

It felt like one of her nightmares. Another nightmare her big brother had to save her from. It wasn't right. It was anything but right.

"Hurry." Strand's voice cut through the hazy fog of her mind. He and Madison ushered her in front of them, and the trio rushed down the concrete stairs as quickly as their legs could carry them.

Once on the ground level, they headed outside and ran for the river, back to where the Proctors and Alicia had abandoned the boats earlier. Alicia leapt into one of them and started working on the motor while Strand made quick work of the ropes tying them to land.

"Hurry, Alicia!" Madison urged as she took her position in the front of the boat.

"I'm trying!" Alicia called back, revving the engine and putting it in reverse. It eventually decided to do her bidding, and they slowly edged away from shore. A few seconds later, Alicia had them cruising away from the bridge at top speed.

They didn't get far before the motor went dead. Alicia sighed in frustration, trying to start it back up again, squeezing the fuel pump a few times to ensure they hadn't run out of gasoline. While she worked, Madison and Strand looked on with wide, concerned eyes, between her and the engine and the bridge looming over them from behind.

* * *

"This dam," John lectured, "could be the center of a new civilization. Right here, a modern Euphrates. But it needs managing, parceling. We can't just give it away, Nick. You're smart. You understand. And you could help."

"It's bullshit," Nick said. "It's just one more thing you cruel few want to control."

"You blow the dam, the river flows," he reasoned. "You think folks want to end the fight for what they bottle? Come on! Civilizations are born in violence."

Nick had to smile.

"What's so amusing?" John asked.

"I heard someone else say that."

"It's the great truth," John said, bored once again.

"I killed the last man who spoke that truth."

"So you do understand this world," John said. "Like mother, like son. Harness the fury or get stampeded.

"I'm looking for a third way."

"There ISN'T ONE!" John yelled. "War was waiting to be realized by us. And here we are."

The boat was almost below Nick now, and he heard their failing attempts to start it again. John knew it, too.

"A quandary: you blow the dam too soon, your family doesn't make it. Didn't consider that quite, did you? End of the road, Nick." He held a hand out to the stubborn bastard. "Hand me that device."

His men were closing in on Nick, pressing him to the border as he was still hesitating to push the button. Nick needed a divine intervention. Needed badly, as bad as he had never needed it before in his entire life.

"Get the detonator," John commanded. One of his men – the one who called Nick out on being in Troy's company – neared, ready to kill him for it. Nick pressed into the fence, holding it high and still not knowing whether he'd push in the last second before they shot him down or not.

The man's head exploded in a spray of blood and brain; he fell down. His heart thundering, Nick hoped it was Troy. Who else could it be?

* * *

Troy was late in setting things up the second time as the sandy roads had been uncharted, catching sight of Alicia, Madison and Strand through his scope as they scrambled into a rubber duck, focus that lingered a couple of seconds and then went in search of Nick.

He was still up there and the group of men was beginning to close in like hyenas.

Troy inhaled and prepared to put the stranger down when suddenly his head exploded.

_What the hell?_

Another shot rang out, and another of the proctors went down. They scrambled, shouting commands while still trying to corner Nick.

Before taking his own shot, satisfied that whomever was shooting was on Nick's side, Troy searched the hillside and found who it was. The Indians. Crazy Dog and Walker. They hadn't seen him, and given all that was going on, Troy doubted they were expecting to. As he stared at them through the single binocular, a rush of contempt took a hold of him. The aftermath of Madison nearly being killed in the tunnels, Nick's suicide mission and the knowledge that if Troy lost him – his only friend – then he officially had nothing left in this world. Nothing he could go back to, nothing that he could go forward with and that had been his safe space.

Crazy Dog smiled at Walker as if the two were sharing a joke, and took another shot.

And just like that, the air passed.

Troy turned back, focused, and pulled the trigger, joining in their macabre festivities.

* * *

John circled the body on the floor like a tiger, grinning at Nick. "New wrinkle. Don' matter. Not a game changer."

Nick walked around the corpse, keeping John across from him. An eternal dance of predator and prey.

"As for you, young Nick, I think you're bluffing. Can see it in your eyes. You're not a killer, and your family is not far away yet."

"Let's find out, shall we?" Nick suggested, holding the detonator up again.

John smiled, then let it die. "Fine. I'm bored. Kill him."

One of his men trained his gun on Clark. Nick put his finger on the switch to push it, but then another shot fired, and it wasn't Nick who went down in a spray of brain matter. Some of the proctors guessed the direction and were shooting through the fence at the hills. The sniper returned fire, and more men died.

John was yelling something, his men were yelling, more shots thundered around Nick. He stood at the fence overlooking the lake, and no sounds around him mattered. They all went quiet, as though someone changed the volume. He watched his family and Strand in the boat trying to get away. He watched them, a small smile tugging at his mouth. He wished he was there with them, and at the same time, he was glad to be up here and let them have a chance. A solid chance at life.

Nick felt the button with his thumb and pushed it. He didn't quite hear the explosion, but the water spray showered his face. The series of chain explosions followed, the cement floor beneath him trembled. Reverberating in his very bones. He held on to the fence, tightening his fingers in its metal loops.

John stared at him, furious and scared. He was being pulled away by one of his few men that still lived. He went with him when the bridge cracked in the middle, the gap snaking around the bodies along the cement floor.

Nick barely marveled at all the destruction happening around him like some nature's wrath display. His eyes locked on the little boat throttling in the dirty water as if on the same spot. The dam had cracked open and water was raging, racing through the gap away from its captivity, pulling the boat with it.

His heart was sinking lower into his solar plexus, aching and trembling in terror.

He didn't save them, after all. The flow was too strong. They hadn't gotten far enough.

Clutching at the fence, Nick couldn't move. His feet grew into the cement bridge, he didn't care about anything left in the world, his world had shrunk to the size of their boat struggling in the raging stream.

* * *

Strand got to his feet and nudged Alicia aside, taking over in her efforts to restart the engine. Like her, he struggled. She checked the fuel line again, made sure it was all right, gave the pump a few more squeezes, and finally made another attempt.

It worked.

"Come on, let's go!" Madison and Strand all but chorused. She obeyed and they were off.

They moved too slowly for her liking, and they all continued to glance back at the bridge. She tried to find Nick among the shapes and silhouettes up there but failed.

The sound of gunshots echoed through the valley, turning her insides cold. Please, don't be Nick. Please, don't be Nick.

Madison's gaze was fixed over Alicia's head as she twisted the tiller to urge them faster through the water.

"No, Nick," she murmured. Alicia didn't look back this time.

A thundering roar from behind them and the powerful quake that followed made her slip from her perch on the side of the boat, and she lost control of the engine. Water and rocks hurtled towards them, and they all dove for cover, their arms braced over their heads. For a few eerie moments, everything fell silent.

And then, the dam broke. Large cracks zigzagged up the walls, tearing the concrete apart, the lower foundation already ripped away and greedily sucking at the water the dam had to provide. Alicia launched herself at the tiller, revving it hard to get them into motion again, but it was useless. The currents were too strong, and no matter how hard she tried, the boat stood still. And then… they were being pulled down.

She didn't stop fighting, didn't cease her efforts even as her mother grabbed her from behind, either to pull her away or hold her steady, Alicia couldn't tell. Her hands tugged on her daughter's jacket, caught in her hair, but Alicia barely noticed the pain. Her heart was in her throat, her scream drowned out by the roar of the water as they finally fell over the edge.

* * *

Nick could no longer breathe, his legs a trembling jello, as he watched the boat being dragged closer and closer to the bridge. He couldn't see their faces, but he knew they were scared. They could die in the torrents, all because of him. He killed all of them by trying to save.

And it was so much more painful to have almost grabbed the lucky chance before you lost it completely. The worst torment.

He watched until they disappeared under him, down there in the raving lake. Someone grabbed his shoulder, yanking him from the stupor. He turned and didn't believe his eyes. Daniel, tired and with a gaping wound on his cheek, stared back at him. He looked so exhausted he could collapse. But the bridge beneath them was going first.

He pulled Nick, and they ran. Neither could go fast, but they almost got to the edge of it when the structure succumbed to the water that ran wild.

The world tumbled, the sky twirled around Nick, mixing with crumbling cement and murky waters beneath. He was falling. He hit something on his way, that knocked the air out of him, and when he landed in the river, he gasped unwittingly, and water rushed in. He struggled against the waves, trying to swim up, but there was no way to tell where the surface was. It seemed like one big endless deep with no light coming through it.

And there was a light no more.

* * *

Alicia's stomach lurched as her body lifted from the boat, like it would when she rode rollercoasters at the amusement parks as a child. Only now, there was no safe 'landing'. There was only chaos.

Enveloped in water, something hard collided against the side of her head. In her mind's eye, she pictured a rock but it may have been the boat. She couldn't tell. The deafening sound of the waterfall fell away but the heavy silence was no better. She twisted and turned, fighting the currents with a violent panic that only seemed to pull her further down. Her lungs burned with the need for oxygen and her already obscured vision began to narrow, red creeping in from the edges.

Soon, her efforts faded altogether. Soon, darkness took her.


	3. Chapter 3

**RIVER FLOWS NORTH**

**PART 1**

The gunfire above had stopped as soon as the C4 was detonated and the cracks appeared, but Troy couldn't look away, transfixed on the figure glued to the fence with desperation—peering down at what and who Troy knew was his family—willing him to run.

There was time.

The bridge, however, hadn't broken apart as of yet, an opportunity the Proctor and those few men the snipers hadn't nailed had taken immediate advantage of.

Troy turned the barrel on the fleeing duo and pulled the trigger. They unintentionally invaded—help that came in form a manmade earthquake as the structure peeled apart with the force of the water—and disappeared where he couldn't see them anymore.

Had they fallen? Had they made it to safety? He couldn't tell and nor did he care.

He pushed off the ground, indifferent to the fact that the Indians could shoot him in the back as he'd considered only a couple of minutes ago, and ran for the Jeep.

He twisted the scope off the gun and used it as a binocular, observing first as the rush of water that had built like a tidal wave swept up the zodiac and deposited it upside-down angrily.

The occupants were nowhere in sight and nor was the lone figure that had been on top of the bridge – a bridge that, too, had disappeared.

Troy tossed the scope onto the passenger seat and jumped into the driver's, taking off toward the rising waters edge, getting as close as he possibly could despite the iffy terrain.

He threw the Jeep into park, hopped out and fell once as he scrambled down the side of the embankment, immediately met with water that rose to knee level and then began to fall, steadying out in seconds until everything was being pushed down into the dregs and taken downstream.

There was so much rubble, so much dirt, that for a time, as he skimmed the water, hopeful to see Nick's familiar head of ratty hair bopping by, he temporarily felt overwhelmed.

He reacted to the first thing he saw, scrambling into the depth of the water, swimming against the force as best he could as it threatened to push him along with the rest of the junk. He caught a hold of a person, yanking them to him by their clothing and an arm, thankful in part that he could still stand and anchor himself and that the figure had been pushed close the bank's edge, realizing only after he'd managed to pull them to the safety of the shore that it was in fact Alicia.

She was unconscious, and with a quick check, he could tell she wasn't breathing, either.

_Shit._

He fixated on the flow of water for what felt like an eternity, aware that Nick had been nowhere close to where their boat had gone down, but that the water might have pushed him along, anyway.

_Fuck._

If he tended to her now, focused on trying to get her to regain consciousness, he might miss Nick. It was a tossup. He'd save her and hope for the best or he'd let her die and hope for the best. His mind reeled maddeningly, back and forth, obsessive in its need for a choice before his hands eventually found their way to her face to open her airways, steadily beginning compressions and mouth to mouth.

* * *

How long Alicia was suspended in the darkness seemed impossible to figure out, but it felt like no more than a few seconds. Like the blink of an eye. But that was the thing in the realm of unconsciousness – time moved differently there.

Pain was the first sensation that made its presence known. Uncomfortable pressure on her chest that grew in intensity. She didn't have much time to ponder and explore said pain before her body convulsed. Instinctively, she struggled to turn onto her side as she coughed up mouthfuls of water, fingers clawing feebly at the ground beneath her as she tried to catch her breath in between.

New pain surfaced. A grim throbbing in her head, much like the headache that had accosted her in the ranch pantry a few days earlier, when she was inhaling more carbon dioxide than oxygen. But there was a slight difference, the pain focused mainly on the right side of her forehead now.

Alicia fell back after a few moments, inhaling air in gasps, teary eyes squinting up at the bright sky. Someone was looking down on her. It wasn't until he leaned closer and his familiar features came into focus that she recognized him.

_Oh no. I died. I died and some higher power sent me to Hell. With Troy Otto._

That seemed highly unfair.

She blinked a few times, and when she finally managed to speak, her voice came out raspy and tired.

"Troy?"

As soon as she responded to his efforts and started coughing up liquid, he briefly helped her onto her side to make it easier and returned his gaze to the fast flow of water.

His hands moved at their own accord, falling away from her body the more lively she became and the less inclined she was to need him anymore.

He saved her and his job was done.

"One and only," he retorted without any of his usual wit, a mere fact to put her at ease as he gave her a quick onceover and headed toward the stream.

There were more bodies in the water now, a lot he recognized as the dead.

"Nick!" he called, trying to shout above the noise, above everything going on around them, hopeful he was out there somewhere—somewhere Troy couldn't see—and would hear.

"Why?" Alicia murmured, a question that went unanswered as he left her side. It didn't make sense. A cacophony of blurry memories and thoughts swirled around her brain, and the more she tried to grasp each and every one, the more they seemed to slip away. Until she heard Troy calling for Nick.

_Nick._

He'd been on the bridge when it collapsed.

_Oh my God…_

Alicia pushed herself up to sit, swallowing a groan of pain as she did so, reaching for the throbbing in her forehead. Her fingers came away wet with blood. She wiped them on the thigh of her jeans, her gaze seeking Troy in the too bright light of the sun. He was down by the water's edge.

She struggled to her feet and immediately lost her balance, falling onto her hands and knees with a pained whimper that morphed into something angry and determined. She tried again, pushed up and fought to hold herself in an upright position so she could see the river that now rushed past them better.

There were so many bodies.

"Nick?" she murmured feebly, inhaling deeply so she could next expel his name in a loud call. "Nick!? Mom!?"

Despite the whoosh of water and his focus, Troy heard Alicia get to her feet, heard her fall and then get back up again.

"I'm going to head up higher along the embankment, try to get as close to the dam as I can," he stated, making his way along the sleuth, assuming she'd either catch up or wait. "Nick!" he called, cupping his hands around his mouth, indifferent that the noise from the explosion would bring every single dead in the neighboring vicinity.

And then, as if by magic, or some magnetic force this family had – there he was. In the middle of the lake, arms semi-wrapped around something indistinguishable.

The boat? A rock?

Alicia looked after Troy as he made his way up the embankment, following the trail of the river back towards the broken dam. He moved far too quickly for her to keep up, but she followed nonetheless, stumbling along behind him and out of breath.

After about a minute she fell to her knees, doubled over and vomited the water she had unintentionally swallowed when the currents had carried her away. It made her stomach clench painfully, the pressure in her ribs agonizing, either from having been thrown around in the boat or from Troy's earlier compressions.

Troy scrambled into the water like a practiced lifeguard, swimming hard when it became too deep, ignoring the scrapes, cuts and what he could only assume were grabs as he made his way toward Nick.

When he got closer, Troy recognized he wasn't holding on at all, that the water pressure must have pulled and pushed him, and inevitably thrown him onto part of the zodiac that hadn't been submerged, probably caught between fast moving rubble and the dead below after it had capsized.

Troy kicked out at the bottom and anything trying to snare him as he circled up behind Nick, taking a hold of his shirt, jerking him back so he could snake an arm around his friend's upper body as securely as possible, and then swam back to the embankment. Back to Alicia.

The task wasn't easy and it was hard to judge the depth below. When he could, Troy lowered his feet into the muddy sand and hauled Nick out of the water as he'd done his sister, immediately beginning compressions and trying to clear his airways.

* * *

He's back in the hot box and he's dying. It seems to be getting smaller, hotter, and it's filled with water. Nick can't breathe, and he can barely see through the murky veil - the window is open and there's the farm field outside. There's no one there, no one knows that their punishment has turned into execution.

He slams his hands and feet against the walls to no avail. There's no strength left in his limbs, he's worn out completely, and the water feels so thick. His seconds are running out, he physically feels the life seeping out of his every pore.

Something flickers outside the window. His lungs are busting, making it hard to concentrate, but he tries. Someone's outside. A face appears in the window, filling up the space.

Troy. He's grinning.

"Hey, buddy, been there too long. Shame, man. The door was open."

His face disappears. Nick groans, willing him to get back and open the damn box. He can hear Troy call from the outside.

His chest feels like a balloon about to bust with excessive air, his lungs are filled with fire.

Nick gathers the last of his strength left, and pushes at the door. It budges; the water twirls around him like a vortex, pushing him out...

His chest exploded in strained coughing, desperate for air. Someone helped him on his side. Nick felt sand and dry grass under his palms. Once all water was gone from him, he gasped, panting, trying to get his heart to stay inside as it strained to jump out of his mouth.

Troy' face was the one he saw hovering over him. The vision was still fresh on his inner screen, it took a bit to readjust to reality.

The dam. He blew up the dam. And didn't die.

His eyes closing, Nick lay down on his back, waiting for the pain in his lungs to ease.

* * *

When Alicia managed to lift her head, her gaze sought Troy again and found him further up ahead, dragging someone out of the water. She forced herself back to her feet and ran as quickly as she was able, her heart exploding in her chest when she realized who Troy had caught hold of and was now coughing up water like she had earlier.

"Nick!"

Getting Nick to respond took a little longer than it did with Alicia but when he did, Troy repeated what he'd done for her and helped him onto his side.

Another voice calling his name startled Nick. He snapped his eyes open, squinting against bright light. It took efforts and a groan to sit up, but it didn't matter as soon as he made sure Alicia was real. She was here and alive.

He locked her in a hug, inwardly thanking whatever higher force kept her safe. She had a significant gash on her forehead, still oozing blood, but seemed to be fine in general. Just a thought of how much worse it could have been made him nauseous.

Alicia fell to her knees beside her brother, her hands and eyes searching him for outwardly injuries but finding none. Once he wrapped his arms around her, she could no longer keep the tears at bay, and she cried silently into his shoulder, relief and fear and exhaustion mingling in a confusing swirl of emotions.

When Nick, too, no longer needed help and eased onto his back, Troy relaxed to catch his breath and let Alicia tend to her brother, a small smile gracing his lips in gradual victory.

His smile dimmed as Troy observed the damage to the bridge and comprehended how close Nick had come to being permanently one with nature.

What an idiot.

He glanced at Clark and then at his sister, the two looking woozy and out of sorts. They needed medical attention. Or the closest thing he could get which was medicine.

"We need to get going," Troy stated as he pushed off the ground, glancing behind him, peering at the dead that were starting to migrate and double up. It wouldn't be long before the dam was overrun.

Nick acknowledged Troy's suggestion with a nod, and looked at his sister with cautious inquiry. "Mom and Strand?"

Alicia gave him a helpless, worried look. "I don't know. I don't know where they are. We have to find them."

It wasn't a plea but a demand, one she assumed Nick would agree with. They couldn't leave this place until they knew their mother was safe.

Twenty minutes had passed since the bridge collapsed, and neither Madison nor Strand had reared either ugly head. Troy could only assume the rush had taken them and had either pushed them toward the city channels or down into the actual depth of the risen lake where the infected were grappling for scrapes.

"Fine," he retorted, gently nudging their family reunion apart, taking an arm of each in order to help them off the ground. "But we're targets out here and you two aren't up to fighting form."

Nick grunted at the newly discovered pains as he stood, and doubled over, propping his hands against his knees, wondering if he had any cracked ribs. It wasn't getting much better, and Troy had a point - they were sitting ducks considering the proctors that could have gotten away. Proctor John wouldn't be lenient with Alicia the second time around.

"We gotta find her, Troy," he said, wincing as he straightened up. "Drive and search along the river."

Some sense came rushing back to Alicia as Troy pointed out what should have been obvious, and once she was back on her feet, her hand automatically reached for her back pocket. For her knife. It wasn't there. The Proctors had taken it from her, and never gave it back. Same with all of her other belongings.

She felt strangely naked without her loyal weapon, and though finding Madison was still her number one priority, she accepted Troy's concerns.

"You've got a car?" she asked them, brushing her wet hair away from her face, wiping gently at the bloodied gash with the sleeve of her denim jacket.

Troy gave them space, hovering close in case either were to take a tumble and God forbid knock themselves out.

"We'll do what we can. And the car's back that way," he said, guiding the two in the right direction with a light nudge before scrambling ahead.

He picked the scope he'd abandoned on the passenger seat, scanning the water's edge in search of Madison and Strand. Bodies had inconveniently littered the canal like trash—still moving in most cases—but none that resembled the two. That was the good thing about it and what would make this task easier. Blond and pitch black were hard to come by in this area.

Troy pocketed the instrument, removed the rifle from the front seat, and snuck it back into hiding where he could reach it, clearing up the seat to make space for whichever sibling chose to sit in the back.

The sight of the river carrying bodies with it was sickening. It filled Nick with sudden chill of fear to see the familiar blond hair and denim shirt of some face-down and clearly dead figure. It didn't come, and he forced himself to look away. It was no use. Too much time had passed, and they must be too far from here.

He nudged Alicia to follow Troy's lead while he peeled the wet uniform off and discarded it on the ground.

He cast the last look at the water, at where the bridge had been, then followed. Thankfully, it wasn't a long walk. He was having issues breathing and walking, like something was messed up inside. He had a similar feeling many years back when Alicia talked him into horseback riding with her.

She had her jacket over the saddle because it was hot that day, and then it dropped right under the nose of Nick's steed. It spooked and reared and dashed sideways while Nick went down because he had lost a stirrup when the horse reared. He felt broken from the inside for a week.

But it had been a milder discomfort than this. Falling off a horse couldn't equal going down with a crumbling bridge made of cement.

Nick claimed the shotgun seat and stilled, catching his breath.

"Thanks for saving my hide and my sister," he told Troy when Otto got behind the wheel. "For sticking around, after all."

Troy presented Nick a 'think nothing of it' smile in respects to his thanks and turned on the ignition, pulling away from the embankment to slowly follow along it.

Did Nick really think that he'd take off and abandon him to deal with everything alone? That wasn't Troy's style and had never been. Not where any of his friends or family were concerned.

And Nick was family. Whether he knew it or not.

Alicia slumped against the comfort of the backseat, a concerned frown claiming her features.

"The water was deep," she murmured once the two in the front fell silent, staring out the window in thought. "I couldn't get to the surface. What if she's just...What if she's stuck under there?"

Now, that was an alarming thought to mull over. It made Nick's heart beat faster, a trickle of cold ran through his spine.

"The current's too strong," he said eventually, unwilling to give in to her suggestion for her own sake. "It's hard to stay stuck in it. It'll carry her up. It probably has, just not here. It must be further."

"Here," Troy said, raising the rifle scope he'd been using as a binocular between them, offering it to either of the two to get a better look at the newfound river. He'd do it himself but driving—no matter how slow—wasn't conducive to watching for stray wasted as they piled into the road because of the noise created by the Jeep's engine or knocking them out of the way. There was only so much he could do.

Alicia didn't respond to Nick's words. Most of what she had to say would not be comforting. She couldn't help but remember how trapped she had felt, how hard she had fought. And clearly, she had made it to the surface at some point since Troy found her, but she knew for certain that did not happen while there was still breath in her lungs. When she stopped struggling.

What if it was the same with their mother? What if she hadn't made it out until it was too late? Or what if by some miracle she did make it out and was met with an assault by the infected? What if one of them was chomping on her flesh right now?

It was enough to make bile rise in her throat again. Alicia shifted to the other side of the backseat where the collisions with walking dead were less frequent, and rolled the window down in case she was going to be sick again.

They sat in silence as Troy steered. Nick took his scope, but had a hard time concentrating on searching. His mind had been assaulting him with all the what-ifs and maybes, all the regrets he had of pulling it the way he did. A part of his mind still felt a bit unreal. Like he had been feeling all the way on the bridge.

There was no sign of either. They stopped a few times, pulled out a few corpses. Three of them had milky eyes and snapped their teeth at them. But none of those were Madison or Strand.

Every failure made Alicia's face go darker. Nick could sense she was already grieving, unbelieving she'd ever see her mom, whether alive or dead or reanimated.

The sun was tipping toward the horizon more and more. Nick hated to voice it, but Alicia's gash needed to be cleaned, and they all were exhausted. Even Troy looked tired.

"It's gonna get dark in three hours or so," Nick said, lowering the scoped gun to his lap. "What if she got out and it's among the people we should look?"

"The people?" Troy asked, confused as to whether Nick was referring to those they'd been picking out on the side of the water's edge or those trying to grab as much of the liquid they could from the broken dam before it would all evaporate or seep away into the dirt.

It wouldn't take long in this heat – a few months – in reality and days for it to be considered contaminated by the rot buried beneath its depth.

"Where are you thinking? The trading post?"

"We can't go back there," Alicia said. "The Proctors, the ones who didn't come with John, will still be there." Besides, the thought of leaving this place behind didn't sit well with her. There was no way Mom could have made it all the way back to that old bullfighting arena. She had to be around here somewhere.

Alicia's gaze fixed on the back of Nick's head. "Proctor John… did he make it? Did the bullets get to him?"

She'd heard gunshots while in the boat. Had that been Troy? Or someone else?

"I couldn't tell you," Troy responded. "I took a couple of shots at him but so much was going on that it was hard to tell."

Nick took a deeper breath, put the scope back up and looked at the water, then at the people coming up with buckets, bottles and anything that could hold water.

"John and a couple of his men were still alive when I blew it. They were trying to get away. I was watching you guys… then Daniel came out of nowhere and pulled me away. We were almost off the bridge when it collapsed. I've no idea if he made it. But I would bet John did – they started running before me. They had time to escape."

There was no one familiar in the crowd, and it was getting more frustrating. Nick lowered the scope again and thought about Troy's question.

"Trading post is not the place," he said, half turning with a wince to look back at Alicia. "If she survived it and climbed out of water, she wouldn't leave the river side, just like us – she'll be searching around the river for you. For days if she has to. She won't leave until she exhausts all her hope to find you, and that takes a while."

A new sense of dread crept over Alicia at the likely possibility John was still alive, out there somewhere, maybe even looking for them. For Nick, who royally screwed up his plans.

"And you," she insisted, having seen firsthand the panic overwhelming their mother every time Nick went missing in the past. She'd search for him tirelessly day and night, even enlist the help of family-friends and neighbors if needed.

She'd never leave him behind if there was another option.

Nick looked to Troy, then out at the Mexicans scooping dirty water from the stream.

"We will have to stick around, drive back and forth until we exhaust our own hope. But no extremes: it gets dark, we find shelter and continue with daylight. Alicia needs her wound cleaned, means we gotta make a stop."

"It's just a scrape," she said, despite having no true knowledge of how the wound looked. It had stopped bleeding, though. That was good enough for her at the moment. "And all this driving's getting us nowhere. I'll go down, ask around if anyone's seen her. Or Strand."

Her high school Spanish would be enough to make herself understood. Even Nick had learned more phrases recently after staying with Luciana, and could probably help, too. Troy – she didn't know. But considering the strong level of racism she had seen in Jeremiah and what had trickled down to his youngest son, she assumed he'd never bothered with the language.

"You are both probably suffering concussions," Troy reasoned. "If anyone is going down there, it'll be me. You fall in and I doubt any of the people are going to scramble to get you out."

He drove for a while longer and then stopped.

"If you want to be helpful and think you can manage, you can drive for a while and take it slow. No more than twenty miles," he added for weight. He climbed out the car and peered between the Clarks. Then reached into the back, claimed one of the handguns that had fallen to the floor and checked how many bullets it had before slipping it into the waistband of his pants. "Are you two going to be okay?"

Unless most of the people down by the river spoke English, and Alicia doubted it seeing as many of them were children, sending Troy didn't make much sense. She didn't have to argue that, however. Nick did it for her.

He couldn't keep back an ironic smile. "Don't be stupid, Troy, your Spanish's good for nothing. Get back in, do the driving."

He put the scoped gun on the dashboard and pushed the door open, stepped out. He was steady enough on his legs, he found. His head ached a bit, the inside of his ribcage ached a lot, but there was nothing he could do about that one aside from trying to not let it show.

"My Spanish gets me by," Troy contradicted as he walked over to their side and started down at the people below. Just the idea of communicating with them was exhausting.

This whole thing was.

Nick rummaged through the bags and things Troy had stored in the back of the car, found the med kit, and pulled Alicia's door open. He placed the kit on her lap, turned to Troy.

"Do we have water or better some alcohol among the shit you piled up here?"

Alicia instinctively took hold of the kit, her gaze roaming the parts of Nick she could see. "Are you hurt?"

"Stay here and tend to your sister," Troy said. "The water's in the bag, along with some medical supplies but no alcohol. I didn't really figure we'd need that after—"

Troy didn't go into detail about what they'd been doing the night before. It wasn't necessary.

"Maybe the culos will be able to provide me with some," he murmured, walking away from the two, using the fact that they were injured to his advantage, putting quick distance between them.

Nick regarded him a moment, then reached in the back, rummaging some more until he got the half-full bottle of water.

He unscrewed the cap and gave it to Alicia: "Drink and wet a gauze." Then turned back to Troy: "You have fifteen minutes. If you're not back in fifteen, Alicia and I leave this awesome packed car of yours and go do it our way."

Nick smiled at him, translating that he totally meant every word, then took the gauze from Alicia and started to clean her gash gingerly.

* * *

Troy waved off the time frame, carefully trekking down to the water's edge, wondering if the people scavenging so desperately for water knew they were making themselves easy pickings for the infected.

They fought them and successfully killed the few that got too close, but the noise the kids made when scared only made it worse. Why would they even bring kids out here? Why not hole them away?

"Hola," he greeted, raising a hand to awkwardly wave.

The tanned woman knee deep in the water momentarily halted what she was doing and looked up at the American, confusion and suspicion written on her face.

At least in that essence she's smart, Troy thought.

"I—I'm…" He begun to lose her and he'd only just started talking. He took a step closer, trying to funnel the words together in his mind in a way that made sense. "Estoy… buscando ah..a alguien."

She looked at him and then continued her task, ignoring him as she attempted to heave it out of the stream and onto the embankment. A voice that sounded distinctly like Madison reminding him for a second time that day that he was in their country and not the other way around.

He got closer to her and forced a friendly smile onto his face, pushing aside her hand to grab the container and to lift it.

She reacted immediately, shoving him, rattling off in Spanish so quickly that he only caught one or two words while he tried to defend himself.

"Calm down! Calmese! I only want to help. Ayuda. I don't need your water."

All eyes had turned toward him, and most had begun to drag their stuff away.

"I'm looking for someone. A woman, moonar… mujer, color de pelo… blonde, rubia," Troy continued, scrabbling for every word he could remember, indicating to his head, growing more frustrated as she inched away, dragging her kids with her.

He let them go. He didn't have much of a choice.

He glanced at the water, wishing the woman would rise up already, and then moved to the next individual, repeating his former phrases, doing his utmost to stay polite and friendly.

He could do this. He would.

* * *

"You have the nicest friends," Alicia murmured in the wake of Troy's departure, following him with her gaze while she opened the med kit and located a piece of gauze. She wet it with the water Nick gave her and allowed her brother to take it from there, trying her best not to flinch as he went to work on her wound. "You didn't answer my question. Are you hurt?"

Nick smirked at her comment on Troy, but there was a bitter taste to it in his mouth. He screwed her over for him. And he still wasn't sure whether he'd want to go back and do it differently. Let Jake kill him. Nick wasn't sure he would. Less so with every passing hour since he made that choice.

Pushing the thought away, he shook his head, swiping the blood off around her gash the best he could to not hurt her.

"I don't think so. Aside from having gulped a lot of filthy water, I'm fine. You feel dizzy? Headache? Anything else that hurts?"

"Better now." And she was. The vertigo seemed to have calmed sometime in the last ten minutes, and she was no longer feeling nauseous. As for her ribs, she expected they would be sore for a while. It wasn't uncommon in cases where CPR had been administered. Sometimes the ribs even broke under the pressure of chest compressions.

She poked around the medical kit, eventually finding some closure strips. She assumed she didn't need stitches and that the delicate band-aids would do.

"I should have hurt him while I had the chance," she murmured, eyes on the package she was slowly unwrapping. "Proctor John. I could have. I just...I didn't know what he was planning."

An excuse that didn't exactly hold up. Not in her mind, anyway. She could have bought everyone time to get away had she made sure John never got up off that operating table.

Nick put the gauze down and took her chin to make her look at him. "Hey, don't do this. None of it is on you in any way, okay? This is just… what always happens. With places like that dam, like the ranch – it's a matter of time. We've learned it all the hard way. And you could've done absolutely nothing aside from getting yourself killed or abused by that man."

He poured some more water on the gauze and went on with finishing touches.

"It wasn't my decision to blow it, but I… I just… Strand told us he made a deal with John – he was a Trojan horse for them. He said that deal was gonna save mom and us. He just had to kill Daniel and that woman with him. I coulda let him do his shit, but I just didn't trust him more than I could trust myself. Maybe I was wrong to screw up his plan with my no-plan prank, but I wasn't prepared for another of his affairs that'd probably go sour. I shoulda let you guys go further, but there was no more time.

"If there's anyone to put this on, it's me. It's the goddam truth of it. I pressed the button before you got away."

He took the band-aids from her and applied them, gently making the gap on her skin close to prevent the scarring.

This was rare. Alicia didn't blame Nick for anything that had happened here, the thought hadn't even occurred to her. But it surprised her he was willing to share such self-reflection with her.

In the past, before the infection broke out and the world fell apart, when Nick was still highly addicted to heroin, he never would have admitted something like this. He would have found a way to explain it away, excuse himself of any and all responsibility. At least until he went back to rehab, and was able to see things more clearly.

She smiled, the notion she was getting her big brother back piece by piece briefly pushing through the general fear and grief of the day. "If I'm not allowed to wallow in self-hatred, neither are you."

She waited until he fixed the strips to her forehead before she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him in for another one of those rare embraces that she sorely needed.

Nick reciprocated her embrace, nuzzling in her hair as his eyes closed to savor the moment, to let himself draw gratitude for her being alive and relatively well, here and now with him. He couldn't have hoped for more, or even that – he was a dead man on that bridge, no matter Troy or anything else that saved him by pure chance.

"What if we don't find her? What will we do?"

He reflected on her question. It pained him, but because of her. It had been more or less clear to him before Troy dragged him to the dam.

"I walked away from her," he said quietly into her wet hair, and pulled away from her, lowering to squat at her feet, wincing briefly. "I was already out, leaving her behind with all that C4 business… Troy stopped me by telling me she could die."

He forced himself to look her in the eye, wondering if she could possibly understand it. It might be the wrong time to stir it, but it was gnawing at him for a while. He felt tears sting the back of his eyes, but he knew hardly any would spill now.

"I went back to help, to make sure she wouldn't get killed while I wasn't around to do anything about it. I did, but… not because I wanted to… you know? Because it was some duty, something I had to do."

He shrugged as if to express how he didn't know why he even said it. He truly didn't know exactly why. Like he needed to hear himself speak it out in order to understand what it all meant.

He sought Troy out with his eyes – Otto wasn't doing so well with the locals, it seemed. The comedy of it didn't hold Nick's attention, however. He let his gaze drop to the ground, the image of his mother in the tunnels with that hammer in her hand heavy on his mind.

Alicia frowned, her confusion increasing the more he tried to explain. Her hands fell to her lap as she looked down to meet his gaze. She felt small, like a child being told something highly important by an adult, and they already knew she would struggle to understand. Similar to when Mom had informed her of Dad's 'accident'.

A few days ago, Nick had asked Alicia to come with them, and he seemed to have every intention of joining Mom, Strand, and Ofelia here at the dam. What had changed to make him want to leave as soon as he got here? And why had Troy of all people insisted they stay and help? He'd always seemed to have some weird obsession with their Mom, but still…

For a long, long moment, Alicia said nothing.

"What do you mean you didn't want to?"

Nick drew in a long breath, frowning as it hurt his chest, then looked up at her wearily.

"I just didn't. I guess it was something similar to why you left on your own. I was too damn tired of it all. Every place we went ended up in ruins, and every new place we found, she wanted to take over. She just always wants to take over. And whenever she has me around, I feel she needs to keep me in line, as well. As soon as I make a step sideways, there's the old mom with that cold you're-using-again look. I was planning to stick around the outpost before Troy told me proctors were going to attack. He brought me here to warn her, and the first thing she said to me was I hope you're using clean works."

Her brow remained furrowed. Not from anger or sadness, but further confusion. The more Nick told her, the more questions popped up that needed to be answered. Because most of this still didn't make sense to her.

It wasn't surprising he'd felt suffocated by their mother's 'love'. Mom would constantly hover over him like a nurse on suicide watch. This was nothing new. It had been like this ever since it first became clear Nick had experimented with drugs. Not that it helped any. If anything, it seemed to have driven him further down the path of self-destruction.

But ever since they left Los Angeles, Alicia hadn't gotten the sense Nick's addiction was high on the list of Mom's priorities anymore. And as far as she knew, Nick hadn't even indulged in alcohol, making Madison's comment all that more random.

He sucked in another deep breath, feeling sicker every moment the truth – at least a chunk of that truth – stayed buried and rotting inside him, and he made himself meet her searching gaze again.

"She almost killed Troy down there," he confessed. "Over the ranch and the horde. I stopped her and… walked away with him. She took over the whole world that he knew, he lost everything, then I had to tell him I killed his father so she could make a deal and lie about it, and then he got exiled because I didn't let him get himself shot that night in that damn house. When he came to warn me about that horde, he was out of his mind, he hadn't slept for days, almost raving. But he still came to warn. I don't justify him – not in a million years – but I…"

He threw his hands up and sat down on the ground against the side of the car.

"I don't know what to tell you. I just couldn't be there standing between them, anymore, and scratching my head trying to pick sides where there weren't any. I couldn't let her play god's punishing hand to him, so I took him like my eternal fucking sin, and left."

His confession about Troy did take her aback, however. They'd all wanted him dead at one point or another. Their initial meeting had made Troy their enemy. Even Nick, who didn't really approve of violence, had pulled a gun on him. And Troy Otto wasn't exactly the epitome of mental stability.

But Alicia didn't understand why, after she chose to send Troy away instead of having him killed, Mom now wanted him dead. For what?

The horde and the ranch, Nick said.

_The horde and the ranch._

And just like that, little puzzle pieces clicked into place, painting her a very clear picture.

She had asked them that day after the little group got her out of the pantry. She had asked Nick and Troy both: Where did the horde come from?

And they had lied.

Alicia sat very still for the next few seconds as Nick propped his back against the car and sunk to the ground, thoughts and flashes of memory swirling wildly in her head. Something inside her snapped.

Her gaze fell on the medical kit and the pair of silver scissors that glinted up at her. Before she knew it, her hand closed around them, and she shot out of her seat, vision blurred by angry tears as she moved through a small group of women carrying their newly collected water, heading straight for Troy.


	4. Chapter 4

**RIVER FLOWS NORTH — PART 2**

Nick sensed it, much like he did back in the tunnels under the dam when he saved Troy from Madison's hammer. He darted after her with agility that surprised even him. All pains forgotten, pure adrenaline rush got him to her when she barely made a full five feet from the car.

He scooped his sister up and pushed back into her seat, holding her wrist in his firm grip. He didn't wrestle the scissors from her - she needed to want to give them up herself.

Alicia strained against him on pure instinct, fighting his strength with her own even if she knew they were not evenly matched. While he tried to capture her gaze with his, she attempted to look around him, over his shoulder, to find her target once more, to get at Troy in any way she could even if it was just to make him see the hatred in her eyes.

"Alicia, please," Nick begged, trying to hold her eyes with his, stupidly hoping she would let him make her understand when he wasn't understanding it fully himself. "You can't change anything with that now, you know that. I swear to you he suffered as greatly and even more. He's punished more than anyone could manage by just killing him. He lost his whole world with that ranch and his family. And he loved Jake, who was the only wall protecting him from his drunk of a dad and the mother that despised him. I saw him holding Jake, I saw him bury his brother and mourn him, I saw how it broke him. He wanted to die, he asked me to kill him, but I wouldn't."

He searched her, hopeful and pleading, then released her wrist and lowered on his knees before her.

"He's punished beyond anyone could manage. But if you need to blame somebody, blame me, because I lied for him - to you, of all people, which I'll always hate myself for - and I let him live. I don't know why. I guess somewhere along the keep-your-enemies-close mission, I just saw through the monster mask everybody else kept seeing, and there was a broken kid. Forgive me, if you ever can, because I'm at fault no less than he is, but killing him… it's not worth losing your soul over. You're not like that. You've never been, and if it's what we came to, let's just go back into that river, you and me, and end it. Because living with it is not a life."

Nick was talking, rapidly and with a pleading tone, but Alicia didn't even catch half of what he was saying, only snippets here and there while they struggled against one another, only coming to a halt when he finally released her. She was still clutching the scissors in one hand, and with the weight of his body atop hers no longer an issue, she straightened in her seat, breathing hard as a result of her desperate anger and their recent exertions.

"...killing him...it's not worth losing your soul over. You're not like that."

Nick's voice suddenly broke through the haze, and her gaze snapped to him.

"Do you know what I had to do in that cellar?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. "We lived with those people for months, got to know them, cared for them, and I watched them all slowly die. Innocent people, Nick! Children! And for what? Because Troy felt he was owed retribution?"

Her anger flared again and she threw the scissors to the ground, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes in a worthless attempt to keep from crying.

"Ten people. I killed ten people. In a stupid attempt to save everybody else. And it didn't work. It was all for nothing." Her voice broke, and though she could no longer keep the tears at bay, her hands remained firmly planted over her eyes. "They were so scared…"

Nick had a pretty good idea of what had happened in the bunker while he and Troy were trying to solve the problem youngest Otto had brought on them. It was obvious to even an untrained eye that would scope out the bloody site.

But hearing it from her killed Nick from the inside. Every word stabbed into his heart and stole his breath. He couldn't remember ever feeling such an all-consuming agony of devastation and pity and self-loathing for having helped push her into literal hell when he was supposed to protect her from any harm or evil until he was dead.

He had no words in his vocabulary to express any of the feelings that were scorching him as she hid her face in her hands. He didn't dare touch her, afraid she'd flinch away.

Nick looked down at the scissors she'd dropped, regretting that Troy saved his life back at his house, and then again and again so he had to face his sins now when he had no excuse, nor any way of ever redeeming himself in the eyes of the person who mattered most.

"You did what had to be done to help and save and protect people around you, Alicia," he uttered quietly, still staring at the scissors and suddenly feeling like a man lost in a blurry dream. He felt impossibly, fatally tired. "Because it's who you are. You stay strong for people who need you to be while you're breaking and tearing on the inside where no one cares to see. I know it because you always did the same for me and I could never pull my part. All I ever did was fail you, over and over, and I never deserved you. I never will. I should've saved you from this terror, because I saw it coming ahead of time. It was like a bad smell you can't track down but it's ominously there. I should have left with Luciana and convinced you to come, too, but I got caught in it like a damn fool and allowed it to play out like I always felt it would. I tried to do the right thing, but you know, there wasn't anything to fit the description. There was simply no right things. We came like guests to a place that looked like heaven but was a leverage in a war no one could win. It was a tie, a checkmate right from the start, before we knew it. I felt it. I wanted to leave. But didn't. I finally had you and mom and Luciana was shot because of me... What happened after was a series of horrible consequences to things neither you, nor I did. It was between Jeremiah and Walker, neither would have let it be bloodless. We got caught in the middle, and mom... I couldn't stop her. She lost Travis and almost lost us, and that was just another side that made it a triangle of doom."

Nick looked up at her, ashamed and broken and scared to see despise in her eyes that he knew he deserved.

"I know your anger is set on Troy because you feel he's the main reason it all fell on our heads, but all he truly ever has been is just a gear in a bigger machine. Otto orchestrated his views and beliefs, and then our mom came with her school counsellor thing and steered him to where she wanted him. And I didn't stop her because it was too late. She didn't believe in Jake's leadership because she couldn't control him. She put her money on Troy when he responded to her. And when Walker came, she probably decided to be it herself. She went into a war that was not ours to partake in, but we all got hurt in it.

"You didn't deserve any of it. I wish I could have shielded you from all that horror, but I made my crappy choices and couldn't be strong enough for you. So I failed you in the worst of ways."

Alicia tried to restrain the weak sobs that shuddered through her body, and managed somewhat to keep the more powerful trembles at bay. But like with the dam now far behind them, her foundation had cracked and the tears could not be stopped. And it pained her to cry in front of Nick now because she knew it would hurt him, and she knew he would want to absorb her pain and carry it so she wouldn't have to.

She'd never been much for crying. Not even in situations when shedding tears was expected. After dad had died and Nick's life spun out of control, she had learned to put up a front, to keep herself cold and hard and not let the people around her witness the devastation and loneliness that stabbed at her behind the scenes. It came out like anger, she knew. Anger at Mom, at Nick, at Travis who dared get involved in their fucked-up family, and she assumed to most she simply appeared as a pissed off, sullen teenager.

But it was necessary. Not just for her. For Mom, as well. She wouldn't have been able to handle Alicia's sadness.

"I always thought you were okay," she'd said during a recent moment of confessions. "You're so strong."

Alicia had played her part well. And sometimes she resented her mother for not seeing through the facade, for not looking deeper.

But Nick had. Alicia didn't realize it until this moment.

"You stay strong for people who need you to be while you're breaking and tearing on the inside where no one cares to see."

Her hands fell away from her face and her brother came into view, albeit blurry due to the fresh gathering of tears in her eyes. He looked so lost, and his voice implored her to listen to what he had to say. So she did, silent and occasionally wiping at her face with the sleeve of her damp jacket.

Alicia never blamed Nick for their stay at the ranch or what happened there. It was out of their hands, and they'd all tried to help the best they could. To keep the peace and avoid bloodshed. And he didn't seem to understand he wasn't responsible for her safety. She was no longer a little girl, and in most cases, she could handle herself. But she couldn't blame him for thinking like that either. After all, hadn't she just confessed to a similar thing earlier? Hadn't she said she should have killed Proctor John on the off chance it would have changed Nick's and Mom's fate?

And she understood there had been bigger things at play at the ranch, for years and years before they arrived. Alicia knew Troy wasn't the sole villain in this piece and that many had played their part – their own mother included. Alicia understood he was damaged, had probably been abused and neglected in ways that made her own mom-issues look like a walk in the park. But did it truly excuse the heinous acts he had committed? Did it excuse mass murder? Never.

Nick fell silent and she continued to watch him for a while. She assumed he expected her to argue, to call him out, unleash her anger on him. But she didn't. Her fury had seeped from her during his speech like the air from a balloon. And she was tired. So very tired. She couldn't find the words.

For a small eternity of a moment, her face was inscrutable. It seemed she couldn't quite settle on anything and emotions just ran around and through until Nick saw what he profoundly felt himself: exhaustion.

Alicia tipped forward in her seat and wrapped her arms around her brother, burying her face in the crook of his neck and allowing his shirt to absorb her tears, hiding against him until she felt thoroughly finished crying. Like so many times when they were kids and had only each other for comfort while their parents were too preoccupied each with their own.

He held her while she needed him to take her tears, and he let his own go and creep down his cheeks. He realized there was only so much pain he could hold in, and some needed to get out to let him breathe.

"Don't lie to me again," she said when she finally managed to speak. "I need the truth, Nick. I need people to stop keeping me in the dark."

* * *

The crowd wasn't receptive to Troy's presence or broken Spanish – although there were a curious few – children mostly, who'd come in walking distance of him as if he were a zoo animal. Their parents would reprimand them and tell them to stay close, to steer clear of the white man and the ghouls, and eventually drag them away to their sanctuaries.

This went on and on until an ageing lady in her seventies took pity on his feeble attempts and placated his enquiries. Troy described Madison and Strand and added a few more descriptors that had come to him the more relaxed he got trying to explain himself in the once abhorrent language. She apologized, told him she hadn't seen any unfortunate tourists, and plied him with a slew of words he knew was meant to be a comfort.

A prayer, he guessed.

He thanked her by carrying her container of water to the trolley at the top of the steep embankment, returning to help her up the rest of the way.

A week ago, he wouldn't have bothered, waiting with almost morbid fascination for her to topple into the stream and fight her way out of it or to be munched on by the loitering dead.

That, or he would have been completely indifferent.

And he still was, but something had altered slightly since choosing to accommodate of Nick's more autonomous opinions and the loss of Jake. Like one kind favor deserved another. A tribute to who his brother had been in his life and what he ultimately would have wanted if he hadn't been lost. If  _Troy_  hadn't gotten him killed.

Troy looked at the two siblings in the distance, observing the fact that they seemed to be in deep conversation and that there was clearly emotions involved. If their body language was anything to go by.

He avidly decided to avoid that and headed further along, back in direction of the dam, hopeful he'd find Madison washed up somewhere begging for life and repentant as all hell for thinking she could kill him.

* * *

Her request as Alicia pulled away cut Nick a little. He gave a subtle, knowing nod.

"It's why I walked away. I know no other way to stop it."

He took her by the shoulders gently as if to create a better link for her to understand him better, his eyes searching hers.

"I love her, Alicia. I don't want her to die. I'd give my life for both of you - it's never gonna change. But if or when we find her, I will want to stay away."

It was a relief to hear that, despite everything, Nick, like Alicia herself, still didn't want their mother to come to any harm. She had done a lot over the past few years that Alicia couldn't get behind, but she was still her mom.

Alicia nodded, acknowledging what he was saying and that she agreed.

He let his hands slip off her arms, leaving her to take the thought in and maybe start searching for her own footing in it.

"If you decide to go with me, I'll never leave you or lie to you. I'm sick of it and I want a clean slate. Otherwise, it's not worth fighting for this life anymore."

She hadn't even thought that far ahead yet, had been too preoccupied worrying about his safety and now mom's to consider what would happen once they were done here. She didn't regret her earlier decision to go off alone after the mayhem at the ranch. It was something she needed, something she still needed. But it had never been about running from Nick. She just needed a change, a life where she could make her own decisions based on the truth, and not be dragged along behind Mom or Strand or some other authority figure who decided Alicia was a lost little lamb. She needed a chance to be her own person. She didn't think Nick would stop her from that. Troy, she was less certain of. She didn't understand his motivations. Did he truly consider Nick his friend? Or was he playing him? And what happened should Nick no longer want to be as friendly? They'd all seen how Troy handled rejection. A whole family had suffered the consequences of that.

"You trust him?" she asked Nick after another bout of silence, gaze momentarily shifting in the direction where she had seen Troy last. "I know you like him, but do you trust him?"

Nick followed her gaze shifting toward where Troy was still attempting to talk to strangers. There was not much reflection to be done to answer her.

"With my life. As fucked-up as it looks, he's yet to fail me."

He looked back to his sister, seeking the right words to explain. If he could.

"He had numerous chances and reasons to kill me, and mom, but he didn't. I think he simply wants to belong. To be accepted. He lost Jake, but he didn't stop needing him."

_Jake._

Another pang of pain gripped her chest. Alicia had tried so hard not to think about him these past few days, to not think of anything ranch-related whatsoever, and the fact she had yet to start mourning his death seemed like an insult to Jake's memory. There were other things to feel guilty for, as well. Like how she hadn't been able to open up to him as much as she did with Matt, how she had failed to make him feel safe in their relationship, whatever it was. So much so, he'd believed she didn't care for him at all.

"He wanted to leave, you know?" she said, solemnly meeting Nick's gaze. "Jake did. He wanted me to come with him to another ranch he knew of, just the two of us, away from mom. But I said no."

It sounded painfully familiar to Nick, like a trite siblings parallel. She could be regretting saying no to Jake, and Nick could totally relate. But in his heart of hearts, Nick was selfishly happy to have her with him now. It was hard enough to let her go when she left after the ranch bloodbath. With Jake, it could have been final.

Like it could have been for Luciana and himself.

Alicia paused, wincing slightly at the memory of her conversation with Jake the morning he died.

"He accused me of being a pawn in mom's game. That mom was manipulating Jeremiah, you Troy, and I seduced Jake. I'm not sure I managed to convince him otherwise."

And she'd always regret that. Because he deserved better.

That hurt Nick for her. Jake wasn't wrong about mom, but it was harsh on Alicia. Nick couldn't blame him for suspicions, however.

She took a deep breath, braced her hands on her knees and stood up, needing to stretch her legs.

"I don't trust Troy," she admitted, freeing a section of her hair from its ties, allowing it to fall loosely around her shoulders before she gathered it all again in a ponytail. "And I don't forgive him for what he's done. But I trust you. For now, that's enough."

Nick took in her resolution on Troy's problem, and gave an understanding nod.

"I regretted not leaving with Luciana," he said. "But if I did and you didn't... Who knows how it would've panned out. At least now you're alive and with me. I prefer that. I'm sorry about Jake. He was onto mom, but it was uncalled for to you."

He pulled her into another short hug, kissing the side of her head.

"I'm sorry."

She let him pull her in for another hug, the kiss to her temple making her smile slightly. She and Nick had never been overly touchy-feely, not since they were little kids and hugs and kisses came easily. But she'd always secretly loved these moments. It made her feel safe. Whereas Mom's hugs often came with somber commentary attached, like "I have to go", "Your brother's missing", or "Daddy's not feeling well right now", Nick's warm embraces were always simple and unproblematic, as much a comfort to him as it was to Alicia. Just shared affection.

"Not your fault," she said as they parted, leaning down to pick up the scissors again, and wiped them clean of dust and sand on the thigh of her jeans. She put them back in the medical kit and closed it.

"The Proctors took my knife. Think Troy has one in his arsenal back there?"

Nick smiled. "Feel free to find out."

He glanced back at Troy, then gave her a cunning squint.

"I think his fifteen minutes are out."

It was like a pebble in his shoe every time she mentioned proctors. Nick kept wondering how bad it was and whether he ever should ask about it. At the same time, he was afraid to have his grim assumptions confirmed.

He moved to the driver's side and hit the horn a few prolonged times, summoning Troy.

Alicia got back in her seat, on her knees this time, and leaned into the storage room in the back, rummaging through Troy's collected belongings until she found what she was looking for. Some sort of hunter's knife. It wasn't the balisong she had become quite skilled with since snatching it from its original owner, Jack, but it would have to do.

She stuffed the knife with its sheath down the side of her boot for easy access and safe storage, turning to peer out the open door her side to see if Troy intended to come back.

* * *

Troy hadn't been walking very long when the repeated blare of a horn reached his ears. There had been a few other cars out there alongside the trenches that he'd observed, rusty trucks mostly, but instinct told him this was specific for him and that he needed to get back.

He was emptyhanded, anyway. Madison wasn't here. Not where he could see her. Although this wasn't a problem for  _him_ —given Troy wasn't all that eager to provide her with the opportunity for a forth strike — he suspected her children would feel differently.

Troy jogged up the side of the incline and approached the jeep. "No luck. New plan of action?"

"We need food and alcohol for Alicia's scratch - water's not enough to ensure no infection." Nick opened the passenger's door, talking to Troy over the top of the car. "The main plan's the same: if she's alive, she won't leave until she finds Alicia. We need to find her before proctors do."

They all got back in the car and drove a bit further down the river before Alicia ventured outside to talk to the locals, asking if anyone had seen a woman with her mom's looks after the dam collapsed. Troy and Nick stayed close by, and she could feel their eyes on her back as she moved through the dissipating throng of people collecting water.

No one she came across had any information that might help, and with every goodbye uttered, her hope dimmed until there was little left but quiet despair.

As the sun snaked behind the horizon, bringing with it the light and warmth of the day, the three of them climbed back into the car once more, recognizing that it would be impossible to continue their search in the dark. Not to mention, highly dangerous.

Alicia leaned back in her seat, arms wrapped around herself. It wasn't as if it had been a cold day, but ever since her time in the water, she hadn't quite managed to get the warmth back in her bones. The long stay in damp clothes didn't help, either.

"Where do we go?" she asked once Troy's foot hit the gas and they were driving again.

As crowded as the stadium was with all sorts of weird folks and possibly proctors, Troy's first thought was to go back there as they'd have a better chance at decent medical attention or at least having someone with a medical eye check them out – check _Nick_  out. He'd been in the water quite a while, and although he appeared to be fine now, injuries – especially of the internal variety – could sneak up on you and sucker-punch you.

"Does anything feel broken on the two of you? Anything that might be a risk to infection?"

"Her cut," Nick repeated tiredly, leaning his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. "Just park somewhere in the desert, we can sleep in the car. We'll move out with first light and look again."

"It's fine," Alicia argued, unable to worry much about her own miniscule injuries compared to those Mom might be suffering. She continued to gaze out the window as they drove, automatically searching for that pale blond hair that would stand out like a sore thumb in this environment. "And we won't find supplies in the desert."

Though it was possible exhaustion had set in where Nick was concerned, and he no longer felt food all that necessary. She wasn't even sure she could eat if they had any.

"There are supplies under the seats. Help yourself." Troy'd stored them there to keep them out of the sun and out of sight of prying eyes. Food was as much a commodity as guns, and people had been and would be killed for it for years to come. "I don't think we should stay out here. If by some unlucky chance the proctors men did survive and they start looking for us, we won't be able to defend ourselves properly. Especially you two."

"We're not crippled, Troy," Nick said in a lazy voice. "We're just tired, nothing new. So, unless you got a hunting cabin somewhere around here you can take us, it's just the desert we can do."

Alicia didn't immediately dive for the promised supplies, feeling she wouldn't be able to get anything in her, anyway. At least not until they stopped to make camp for the night.

"What did you see driving here?" she asked the two men up front. "On the road between the trading post and the dam. Anything that could give us some shelter?"

"Aside from the actual city? Nothing but sand," Troy stated thoughtfully. "But there is still time and we could backtrack, find somewhere to hole up. An abandoned house maybe or the dam itself. If any of you are willing to go back there? That might be our best bet. The safest. Those bikers went there for a reason, they didn't get it, and I doubt they're going to stick around to sit on a nest egg with no nest. I wouldn't if I was in their position."

Almost dozing, Nick considered the options sluggishly.

"Even if the dam is gone, they could still linger around it to search for us," he reasoned. "At any other day, I'd risk it, but tonight all three of us are tired, so we gotta play it safe. So, the dam and around the river, and the trading post – those are a no go."

"Let's backtrack, then," Alicia said after another moment of contemplation. Going back to the dam wasn't an enticing idea to her, even if it would potentially keep them closer to mom.

If Madison was still there.

"We can find somewhere that won't leave us out in the open. Sleep in shifts."

Troy liked Alicia's thinking. He gave a nod of agreement and continued the way they were headed, driving toward the city, attentive to any other vehicles or motorcycles that might be running this way. Thankfully, the night seemed to push everyone with something to lose toward the trading post, leaving them only to truly worry about being overrun by the infected.

That would change inside the city borders, and Troy wasn't entirely convinced that would be the smartest thing to do. They hardly knew who these bikers were and where else they could be. And, if what Troy did know about them was anything to go by, it was that they'd been all over the city.

They had a reputation, and they had rage.

Thirty minutes later, Troy pulled off the demarcated dirt road and headed further into the desert. He killed the engine, got out, waited on the dead that had followed them, and quickly delivered a killing blow.

"We should go the rest of the way on foot. If I remember correctly there are houses just outside the city. Shacks. If those bikers are even a little observant they'll know what our vehicle looks like, what we left it and how we'll arrive. Are either of you up to it? Or would you rather sit out here picking off everything and anything that'll be coming up on us during the night?"

Nick heaved a sigh and slipped out, then opened the trunk to get a knife. "If you still want that car with all that you stuffed in it, you need to hide it better. Out here is not good."

Alicia grabbed a few of the food items Troy had stored under the seats – protein bars and a large bottle of water. She stuffed them into a bag that still had some room it, along with the medical kit and an old blanket.

Nick finally pulled a hunting knife from under a bag and closed the trunk, locking the belt with the knife around his waist.

"If we were to stay in it, it'd be fine. But if we leave it out here, you can kiss your baby goodbye. I know you love traveling on foot with no supplies or guns, so I'm just sayin'."

He gave Otto a smirk he might have seen in the twilight or not, and snatched two bottles with water from the backseat when Alicia got out, handing one of them to her. She briefly contemplated indulging in a sip. In the end, she decided against it for now, worried it would make her sick again and slow down their progress.

Troy had a valid point. If anyone was lingering close by, they would be easily recognized by their vehicle. Not to mention the sound of the engine would draw attention.

But Nick wasn't entirely wrong in his assumptions, either. There were no guarantees the car would still be here, whole and unharmed, should they leave it behind.

Alicia looked between the two, pulling the strap of the bag onto her shoulder, awaiting Troy's input.

"Hide it how, Poet?" Troy teased, pleased that Nick was able to talk and didn't look to be in too much pain despite all that he'd endured. "With leaves? A bush? I know it's dark but take a look around. There's nothing to camouflage it with. This place, this entire backwater city is an open field and aside from the mountains, a crevasse I could sneak this baby into—which I have no idea what to find from here—I'm not sure it would matter. All we can hold onto is faith and hope it's still here in the morning. I'm willing to risk it to know we'll all be safe tonight, that nothing is going to creep up on us while you two are weak."

He reached into the back, plucked his rifle from the floor of the jeep, and slung the strap onto his shoulder, yanking up the seat cushions that Alicia had been seated on to take the extra packs of bullets. He stuffed them there in case anything were to happen.

After removing the keys from the ignition, he pocketed them and waited patiently. "So, what'll it be?"

Nick was grateful for the dark, because standing upright was a problem. Walking was a problem. Breathing was, too. But at least he could relax about his face that let it show every now and then. There was a crescent moon hidden behind clouds, so nature was on his side.

"It might be better to park it in the city if we're going there. There are lots of abandoned cars, what's one more."

He shrugged and started walking slowly, letting Troy decide while he took a swig from the bottle.

Alicia subtly shifted the bag on her shoulder. Its weight, though not all that heavy, still highlighted the aches and pains in her body. "Let's just bring the supplies we're able to carry and if worst comes to worst, we'll have to find ourselves a new car in the morning."

Now that it was dark, it was easier to admit how tired she was, and standing around here arguing didn't seem to do much good. She reached into the car to get the rest of the food and water, stuffing it into her bag along with a large forest green jacket she assumed belonged to Troy or one of his men.

"You've a point, Nick," Troy admitted, "but as I said before: If those guys keep as close an eye on the city as the gossip in the arena claims then they'll see the headlights coming a mile away. And unfortunately there is no way to stealth the vehicle. I'm with Alicia on this one. If we have to, we'll get a new ride." They had suffered with less, and the fact that they still had this one was a basic miracle.

Nick didn't object – he didn't really care much. It was going to be a pain to walk a mile or so they have to the city, but pain was in him to stay awhile, so he might as well get used to it.

Troy walked around to Nick's side, scanning him as best he could in the twilight. "Need a hand?"

Nick pulled the bag off Alicia's shoulder as he passed by her and slung it onto his, eliciting her groan of objection and an annoyed look at his retreating back.

"Let's just get there already," he said. There were two silhouettes ahead. The dead. He pointed for Troy. "Give them a hand."

Troy made quick work of the few walking corpses they met on the way, and for that, Alicia was grateful. She could still summon up the strength needed to protect them if need be. In fact, after the whole ordeal back at the ranch, she was more confident in her ability to stay standing during extreme pressure than ever. But it was nice to not have to pull the knife from her boot.

It was a longer walk than it could have been had they all been light on their feet. They went into the first hut on the outskirts that they scoped out and deemed okay. There were no dead inside, but neither was anything else. It was picked clean, even most of the furniture was gone.

Nick dropped the bag in the corner and slipped down the wall to sit on the floor.

Alicia opened her water bottle and dared a sip. It hurt going down, her throat still a little sore from earlier, but at least it didn't bring the nausea back.

She reached for the bag Nick had abandoned, opened it and pulled out the blanket she had packed. She threw it to her brother. He needed it most seeing as he had ditched his jacket from the water plant. She handed him one of the protein bars as well, hoping she could encourage him to eat something, and then slid to the floor beside him, heaving an exhausted sigh.

The bag remained open a few feet away, allowing Troy to help himself to whatever he needed.]

Troy watched the two get comfortable with one another and situated himself behind the door to act as a barricade, falling asleep within mere minutes.


	5. Chapter 5

**RIVER FLOWS NORTH — PART 3**

Morning came swiftly, filling the shelter with direct sunlight, turning the room into a hot box that made it almost unbearable to breathe.

Troy eased himself onto his elbows and blinked the lingering touch of sleep from his eyes, slowly sitting up to lean back against the closed door for support.

The Clark siblings were still asleep as far as he could tell, curled up against one another. He let them sleep for a while longer and then proceeded to move about the small space, searching through the few items the former inhabitants had left behind to see if there was anything they could use or would need. There was no food, no clothes, and from what he could tell, everything was absolute junk.

He got to his feet, picked up his rifle, and cautiously headed outside to relieve himself.

There were no solid dreams of nightmares Nick could recollect when Troy's shuffling around woke him. There had been water, and there had been the hot box he recalled from another vision. There have been snippets of what had happened on the bridge between him and the proctors. All a jumble of images and words.

Nick shifted subtly, to not wake Alicia a little while longer, wincing mutely at the intensified pains inside him, and snuck out after Troy.

Otto was zipping his fly and all but jumped when Nick came out. A few dead walked aimlessly in the distance down the road. More were unseen from this vantage point.

"You slept okay?" Nick asked quietly. "Passed out like a dead last night."

Troy took a short step away from where he'd pissed against the side of the small shack, eyeing the dead in the distance. He didn't suppose they'd picked up on their scent yet because they weren't rushing toward them and were doing their every way dance of pointlessness, but he fought the instinct to put them down anyway – to clear them out.

Better safe than sorry was the way he liked to work. The way he liked things done.

"As decently as to be expected," he supplied in a similar tone, smiling, giving Nick a once-over in the brightness of the morning. The sun hadn't even hit its full peak yet. Clark had bruises on his face, shades that hadn't been there the previous day and made him look as if he'd taken a literal tumble in a giant washing machine. "Are you okay? How are you uh… feeling?"

Nick shrugged listlessly. "Like I've been hit by a truck. I'm fine. I can walk, I can talk, I can protect myself. 'S all good. We need to get going. After a minute."

He strolled for the back of the house to do what Troy had done, and cast a passing glance at him, smirking.

"Don't fight your urges, take 'em out. We'll be ready in a sec."

Troy smirked slightly and observed him for any signs of a limp as he disappeared around the corner to take care of his own business. Troy saw the slight compensation in Nick's walk—indication that he was still experiencing pain somewhere—but let him have for now. He had his pride, he had his sister and he had a mission.

Alicia woke to a faceful of dirt floor, having slid down against the wall after Nick moved. Momentarily befuddled, she pushed herself up on one elbow, brushing soil from one side of her face, and took a look at her surroundings. She was alone.

Urgently, she got to her feet in the blazing heat, feeling like she was close to suffocating from the lack of fresh air, and headed outside, squinting into the rising sun.

Troy was the first thing she saw, his hair ruffled by sleep and his rifle hanging from his shoulder.

"Where's Nick?"

"Taking a leak," Troy retorted, gesturing to the spot he'd been a second ago, giving her the same studious treatment he had her brother. She forged better than he had, but the bruise around the cut on her forehead was ugly as all hell. "You need to, too? If so, I'll uh… I'll stand guard."

Alicia instinctively cast a quick glance in the direction Troy pointed out, assuming Nick had gone down the side of the shack. Her eyes narrowed slightly at his following suggestion, ever-so-suspicious and wondering whether his offer was genuine or some sort of twisted prank. For some reason, the mental image of Troy jumping out of nowhere to push her over while she was crouched and vulnerable played across her mind. Probably not likely.

"Stay," she responded a little awkwardly before she turned and made her way to the opposite side Nick had chosen to take care of business.

Troy could see a series of emotions playing across her face and when she spoke, it was like an owner to a loyal pet. He supposed he could take offense but it was too early for that and somehow, without even a word, she'd made the thing twenty times more awkward than it should have been. He turned away from her, distancing himself from the hut slightly, back turned to the both of them, eyeing the dead in the distance almost praying they'd attack now just to wipe this sudden stench of weirdness off him.

Nick chuckled to himself as their short but colorful conversation reached him. He zipped up and strolled for the front yard, watching Troy hurrying toward the dead on the road.

"How you feeling?" Nick asked as soon as Alicia approached and he assessed her. She didn't seem all that rested, but he guessed he looked no better himself.

"I'm fine," she said, noting the bruises now decorating his face, making her wince. "You look like shit."

She was sure, in truth, they all did. No one really looked all that good these days. Too much stress and horror, not enough rest and happiness.

"How's your ribs?" He hadn't complained about them yesterday, but seeing as they had both received similar treatments, she assumed his was aching, as well.

Nick narrowed his eyes a little at the question, wondering whether they were truly seeing through all his efforts of acting fine or she had her own problems with that.

"Not coughing up blood or anything, so it must be a good sign," he said, adding a smile to indicate a joke. "Don't worry about me, I must've filled my dying quota for at least another week."

That wasn't gonna happen. The not worrying part. But she wasn't going to baby him, either. She hadn't quite reached Mom-status yet. "Let's hope so."

He returned to the house to roll up her blanket and get the bag so they could start back to see if the car was still where they had left it.

She followed him inside, a little reluctant due to the heat, and reclaimed her water bottle to have a few sips. The water was warm but they couldn't afford to be picky.

Strange to think this time yesterday, she had just finished up breakfast with Diana. Alicia hoped she was okay. That Eddie and the proctor boys hadn't taken advantage of her vulnerable state.

"Strange how so many crazy things can happen in one day," she murmured in thought, screwing the cap back on her bottle. "I can't remember the last time I felt bored."

Nick looked at her over his shoulder, stuffing the blanket into the bag. "Anyone would take bored over petrified or trying to not die after getting into another pickle," he said, and held on to the wall as he straightened up, hiding the wince from Alicia's eyes. "Boredom is truly a rare gem these days. You miss it?"

She shrugged, moving to stow her bottle in the bag he was holding. "There are things I miss more. Like sleeping without my boots on. Even on the ranch, I rarely took them off. Just in case, you know?"

He doubted she kept them on while sleeping at Jake's, which wasn't all that rare, but he didn't remind her.

"I do. It seems like a non-issue, but having no place to feel that safe is what truly sucks."

He led the way outside, seeking Troy out with his eyes as he took the bottle for a sip or two. It was finished, and Nick pushed it back into the bag in case they needed it later to refill.

"You never got to that cabin, did you?"

Alicia followed his gaze further down the street to see the youngest Otto dispose of a few infected.

"No," she admitted, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "I probably would have made it there by last night if I hadn't chosen to give this girl I met a ride to the trading post."

"A girl," he repeated, and regarded her. "And then what happened?"

"On the way there a car rammed into ours. Some assholes trying to loot us, I suppose." Or worse. They hadn't truly had time to make their intentions clear. "The girl, Diana, her name's Diana, her leg broke in the collision. It was really bad, so when we finally made it to the trading post we had to seek medical help. We found this doctor named Eddie who managed to set her leg and make her a cast. While he worked, we got to talking and I mentioned I had volunteered at the hospital before the world went to shit. He asked me if I would be willing to assist him with a surgery. I was reluctant, but he did help me after all, and I wanted to repay the favor.

"The 'patient' turned out to be a man named Proctor John."

She paused to give Nick a significant look, highlighting the irony that had reunited them.

He mulled it over, and found a slight relief in her association with John being truly that of a nurse that he somehow dragged away with him.

Was it all? Just a surgery and a whim to take a detour?

"He didn't let you go after that, I assume?"

"I didn't follow him out of the kindness of my heart." She shot her brother a small smile. "When we met he was in a wheelchair. He had a tumor pressing on his spine and it was paralyzing him. Eddie was tasked with removing it. John refused anesthesia of any kind, so my job was to keep him from moving while Eddie cut him open. If the operation failed, they would kill Eddie and me both.

"But it was a success. And no, he didn't let me go. He brought me… I guess to change his bandages, since that's what I ended up doing while his men rounded up the rest of the workers. He saw that I recognized Strand and informed me of the deal that had been made to save Mom, the two of us. I didn't know you were there until they hauled you all into the office." She shrugged. "Anyway, John informed me that the deal with Strand was off because he didn't uphold his end of it. So, I made a deal of my own. John ensured me Mom would be spared if I went with him to Texas. He's planning to set up a trading route between here and there. I took the deal."

Remembering the condescending manner and the ease as John ordered them all dead made Nick sick to his stomach. He felt sorry he didn't make sure John went down with the dam. But then again, there was that boat holding his family – Nick's own damn deal that went south.

"I guess I ruined your trip to Texas with kind Uncle John," he murmured, and forced a smile for her sake. "We'll have to be careful from here to Texas, then. Barely that was any close to a big number of his people who died on the dam. If he survived, he's gonna be a permanent problem until he forgets about us. Which might never happen."

She couldn't help but laugh, and she was happy to find some humor among all the misery. "I forgive you. I don't think I would have liked Texas very much. I stood out like a sore thumb with all those bikers. I don't even own anything leather.

"And you're right. He founded the motorcycle club before the outbreak and now has chapters serving under him all along the Mexican-American border. They're setting up trading posts from the Pacific Coast to the Mexican Gulf. Which means it's likely we might run into them again."

A potential meeting she very much dreaded.

"Thankfully, most of those who saw our faces are dead now, so it leaves just John and one or two of his men that got out. He's not the kind of boss who goes everywhere himself, so we might be fine until we run into him directly."

Nick shrugged, eyeing her.

"We only need to find mom and warn her to get out of his possible way, and then we lay low and maybe move to a state with no proctors. We'll see how it goes. Just need to find her first."

It was nice that he already included her in his future plans. Despite his earlier offer, she hadn't been entirely certain he wanted to. She assumed she'd be a drag on his time with Troy, like when they were kids and Alicia would follow him everywhere he went. It was never cool to have your little sister in tow while you were trying to fit in with the older boys in the neighborhood. But perhaps it wasn't like that anymore.

Nick thought back to how they got to the ranch. It seemed like forever ago.

"That time on the Villa when I went to search for Travis for her," he murmured, watching Troy take a swing at another walker. "I did find him. He found Chris and chose to stay with him. Asked me to tell her I didn't find him… and so I did. He said his son needed him. I think he was scared to bring him back to be with us. I wonder if it woulda turned out better if he did come back with me."

Her brow furrowed slightly in thought, and the memories Nick's words brought to mind. "I don't think it would have mattered. You still wouldn't have come with us after what Mom did, right?"

He scowled in confusion, skimming through the events of that night. He remembered seeing the fire and immediately assuming it had to do with mom, but then they said differently.

He stared at his sister, perplexed. "Daniel started the fire."

It was only back at the hotel when Alicia truly understood Nick's reasons for leaving them. Leaving  _her_. But the way he looked at her now had her doubting everything again. "Yes, Daniel started the fire," she parroted. "But Mom–"

When Troy returned, the two appeared to be having another heavy-duty conversation, one he assumed was probably too early for the morning and was following the two around like a plague. Near-death experiences allowed you to get a lot of shit off your chest.

"Everyone okay? Ready to go?" he interjected cheerfully.

Troy's arrival made Alicia fall silent. She looked between the two, uncertain if it was wise to potentially reveal something awful Mom had done now that they were about to go look for her.

"Yeah," Alicia said, taking the bag from Nick and hauling it onto her shoulder. "Let's go."

Nick saw Troy, heard him say something along the lines of We should get going, but he couldn't tear his eyes off Alicia. She pulled the bag off his shoulder and he didn't move, his mind spinning around her insinuations he couldn't understand.

_After what mom did… But mom… But mom… Mom…_

"Alicia," Nick uttered, feeling like something inside his aching chest was being slowly wrenched out by a horrid hunch. "What happened at the Villa?"

Alicia paused in her tracks, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue before she turned her gaze back to her brother. "I overheard Mom telling Travis…" she began, hesitation clinging to every word, "that she locked Celia in the cellar with all the infected."

His eyes narrowed; Nick couldn't comprehend what she had just said. He stood staring at her dumbly, trying to wrap his mind around the words and get to the meaning. It didn't sound right. It couldn't be right. It couldn't be at all.

"Why?" he heard himself ask. It was like being in a nightmare and out of control. His own voice was alien and hollow, he didn't feel his mouth move. A brief recollection of some Bible snippet swept through his mind: about Lot's wife who disobeyed God and looked back over her shoulder at Sodom as it burned, and turned into a pillar of salt.

Nick physically felt himself becoming that pillar, while inside of him, there was a storm of pain.

Nick hadn't known, Alicia realized. He hadn't known how badly Mom had betrayed him, and it killed her that she had to be the one to tell him. It pissed her off. Why did she have to be the one to break Nick's heart when it was not her doing?

She swallowed, shifting the bag on her shoulder in an attempt to get more comfortable as she closed the space between them.

"She said it was to protect you," Alicia confessed, looking up at him with a grim knowing. "But we both know the real reason. She felt threatened."

That was the final, hard blow with a ragged, rusty blade into the heart. She stabbed it in and twisted, slowly, until there was nothing left to beat.

A lump in his throat blocked the air, like a rotting tumor, and spilled more pain down into his chest. Nick staggered back a step, then two from Alicia, no longer seeing her or anything else around. He could no longer think, his brain was stuck on the same phrase, repeating it over and over like in a world gone mad.

_To protect you… to protect you… to protect you…_

His mother's face flashed in his head, her hammer pointing at Troy, but her eyes boring into him to convince, to bend, to break and make him see her way that was  _the only_  right in the world.

'All I ever did was to protect you. You can't judge me! You can't judge a mother for protecting her children. I had no choice!'

Nick sucked in a short, painful breath, wheezing, then another, feeling dizzy and almost dying. He closed his eyes to try and grasp at reality, at what he had to do now, where he had to go, but all he could see was the Villa engulfed in flames.

He backed away, as if he could no longer stand her presence, and though it hurt, Alicia couldn't blame him for it.

"I thought you knew. I thought that's why you left…" she murmured, though she was not sure Nick heard her. He looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack, struggling for breath, to remain on his feet.

She dropped the bag to the ground between her and Troy and took a few steps forward, hands hovering at Nick's side to support his weight in case he lost balance.

"Nick, I'm so sorry."

It was desperately hard to breathe and his heart was thrashing in his ears. Nick could barely hear anything, although he was aware of Alicia's voice somewhere near. He just couldn't respond. He no longer believed he could make a sound, and he couldn't let her touch him because then he would crumble to the ground and never get up.

He shook his head, forcing himself to open his eyes. The light gave a bright flash, and then the terrain started to seep through. He sucked in another shallow breath of pain and started walking in the direction the car should be if it was still there.

There was still a raging fire blaring inside his skull.  _I might be going mad_ , he thought briefly. This was it. He was going mad, and it wasn't some weird, impossible things happening around him like back in LA.

It was reality, the truth of it, the darkest, deepest, most horrific truth that was driving him insane. It was real, what she did. A fact. Like that pillar of salt standing in the Israel desert somewhere, reminding everyone how dangerous it is to find out the truth about things you keep wondering about.

Alicia started ahead but before Troy could join her or nudge Nick along, they appeared to fall into their unfinished business, pushing him into the shadows temporarily to absorb everything as he always did.

_Madison killed someone else?_

Someone else important enough to Nick to make him look as though he lost a loved one?

So much for noble and doing what she had to to protect her family. He guessed that was why, unlike them, he admired certain aspects of her personality and thought she understood him, why he had constantly believed that she did. Troy wondered if she'd ever been honest, if anything she'd said to him, anything she'd supported was actually true or if she was only aiming for her own means. He knew it was the latter, he'd seen and experienced the evidence, but part of him at least trusted — from what he knew and had observed of humanity — that it was more than that. That they were two very similar beasts.

Troy reached down and picked up the bag Alicia had dropped in attempt to console her brother, and steadily fell into line behind them.

* * *

Alicia didn't feel particularly guilty about allowing Troy to carry the bag along with his collection of weapons. If he wanted to play the beast of burden, she'd let him. But she was worried about her brother. Even as they trekked across the dusty field back to the car, he looked as though she had just slapped the life out of him. She gave him some space, walking in silence until Troy pointed out the outline of the Jeep and trotted towards it enthusiastically. Where did he get all that energy from?

"And it's still there," he chimed conversationally, satisfied that another thing appeared to be going right this morning and that it was a positive sign to what he assumed was going to be a hell of a long day.

He dumped the bag he was carrying into the backseat, checking the tires, water and fuel respectfully to make sure some bandito high on life didn't find it in the middle of the night and tamper with it.

"Nick?" Alicia caught up with her brother once they were alone again, eyeing him carefully. "Are you okay?"

For a long time, Nick was just a machine that moved forward, squealing its rusty joints and gears. It took forever until the storm around his head started to exhaust itself, and he saw a dead desert it left behind.

In his former life, he had read about Tarot cards. The book was old and used, it belonged to Gloria's grandmother. Gloria thought it was funny, but Nick somehow didn't share the idea. There were pictures of different versions, and some engraved themselves into his intoxicated memory.

The image of The Tower engulfed in flames frightened him back then. He had stared at it for an hour, unable to perceive how it could have scared him so. People were falling down, throwing themselves out of its windows, their mouths gaping in mute screams.

Only Nick had heard those screams. He saw the flames leap and devour the tower like some Biblical apocalypse.

And then, there was The Star. Representing hope after everything old had been destroyed. It shone down at the waste and ruins of the Tower, some peace after the storm.

Gloria would have appreciated the cosmic irony of his mental connections.

In his story, however, there was no Star. No hope.

Just the ruins.

Alicia's cautious voice pulled him from the murky waters of his inner workings. He saw the car, Troy's back as he headed for it like an impatient lover on a long-awaited date, and he saw Alicia's face, worried, wounded.

She didn't deserve his pulling away. But she didn't deserve placating or lying, either. No more.

Nick shook his head subtly once, stopping to wait for Troy to start his jeep.

"No," he mustered in a quiet, husky voice.

Alicia nodded in understanding. She hadn't expected him to be okay, but it was one of those questions you'd ask anyway. Because it was an opener, a way in.

"What can I do?"

In the distance, Troy had busied himself with the Jeep, checking it over, loading their stuff in the back.

Troy checked the fuel gauge as he turned on the ignition. If they could have stopped to refuel before heading to the dam the day before, he would have more, but there wasn't time.

A stupid mistake in an apocalypse.

Like many he'd made over the course of the last few months and since meeting Madison.

Everything else was fine and would get them through the day sufficiently. He climbed into the driver's seat, turning off the ignition while he waited, giving them time to finish their talk and to join him.

She swallowed, studying Nick. "You still want to find her, right?"

He read distress on her face. She didn't know what to do, and it hurt him to be the reason, but he couldn't help any of it just yet. He needed time to start feeling again. He could only hope he would, because for now, he felt lost somewhere in a thick veil of mist; everything was grey and lifeless.

"We will," he nodded and went to the passenger's seat.

Alicia didn't know how to comfort him, and reckoned there wasn't actually much she could do to help the situation at current. He needed to process, like she needed to process what Nick had told her about Troy. And she would. Once they found Mom, and Alicia knew she was safe.

"Back to the dam?" Troy asked.

"Yeah," Alicia replied as she climbed in the back, closing the door on her side and resting heavily in her seat. It was going to be another long, long day.

* * *

People were still collecting water. Nick wondered if they had slept at all.

The dam's ruins reminded him of The Star card. He had been pushing all the Villa thoughts away during the drive, but hadn't been very successful. He kept seeing Celia's reserved, wise smile as she sipped wine while talking to him. He saw her eyes, the way they glistened when she saw her risen son walking next to Nick.

Nick couldn't believe it, and yet, he could. And that was the grimmest, scariest thought of all. Deep down, he believed. He  _knew_  why. It was all written in his mother's eyes.

They searched the same streets, asked around, widened their search, but found out nothing useful. A few people gave them false leads that brought them nowhere near their mother or Strand. However, one of the elder Mexicans waved a hand further down the stream and told Alicia he had seen a tall black man walking that way. He didn't talk to that man but heard him speak Spanish.

It sounded like Strand. They needed to drive further along the river shore.

It took them four hours, a lot of clueless people, a brief snack break and a short trade for half a bottle of some Mexican moonshine in exchange of one of Troy's pistols. He was far from happy, but they finally cleaned Alicia's scratch with alcohol and renewed the band-aids.

And then, they spotted a familiar back with blond hair. Strand stood by her translating, his hands flying up and down to help the descriptions.

Neither saw them. Alicia's hand had Nick's forearm in a vice grip. She was breathing rapidly, endless relief all over her face.

Thankfully finding Madison wasn't as hard as Troy had anticipated, and she wasn't dead. Not because he cared about the latter but because he suspected the news of her passing now would further break Nick. There was a lot of unresolved issues between the two and a lack of closure – well, that could destroy a person.

He remained seated in the jeep, sipping at a bottle of water, eating of the last protein bars they had left, patiently waiting for the scene to play out and the siblings to take the next step or whatever they had planned.

Nick didn't know what he felt. There might be some relief, too. He still didn't want her to die. He would never want it. That hadn't changed. He didn't want to go with her. That hadn't changed, either.

But she needed to be warned about the proctors. That hadn't changed.

Alicia's initial reaction was relief – a warm sensation that temporarily brushed all the aches and pains away, making her feel light on her feet and almost dizzy with euphoria.

But soon after, came the uncertainty and doubt. She knew the moment they let her see them, she would run to them, wrap them in her embrace, and tell them how worried their absence had made her. And then, she would tell them the new plan of action, possibly to get in the car if she and Strand had already found a vehicle, and that would be it. Back to the same old Madison-run show.

Alicia didn't want that.

And what was worse: she didn't know if she would be able to fight Mom's hold on her. If she would be able to break free from Mom a second time.

"I'm coming with you," Alicia told Nick, finally releasing her hold on his arm. "If the invitation is still valid, I wanna go with you."

Nick tore his eyes from mom and Strand to look at Alicia when her hand slipped off his. His lips twitched in a faint and failed attempt at a smile; he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin affectionately.

"We should do this first," he said quietly, and started toward them, leaving Alicia to decide if she wanted to come or stay behind.

He had to do this, either way. He braced himself as he went.

Alicia almost reached out to pull Nick back, but didn't. Instead, she took a deep breath and followed. She couldn't let him do this alone.

Strand caught sight of them first, and as expected, when he pointed them out to Madison, she came running, almost knocking over a little old lady carrying a too heavy container of water. She flung her arms around Nick, hugging him to her, and pulled Alicia in, as well, once she was within her reach. Alicia hugged her back.

"Oh my God," Madison breathed, and Alicia could tell she was on the verge of tears. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Once they pulled away from one another, Alicia could see that Madison, too, had received her fair share of bruises. The same went for Strand, though his were harder to immediately spot due to his dark skin. It was a miracle really that they had all survived.

"We're fine," Alicia ensured her, though she wasn't certain that was the case at all.

Strand stood behind, smiling, seeming genuinely pleased to see the kids in one piece. Madison looked at them, from one to another, tears welling up in her eyes. Like she couldn't get enough of this happy moment, of relief and gratitude to whatever might have served the purpose of helping them survive.

"Are you sure you okay?" she asked, touching Alicia's bruised scratch with her fingers, wincing as if it pained her and not her younger child. "We were looking all over for you. When I got out of the water, it was too far down from the dam, and I only found Strand by nightfall."

"Asking around wasn't getting us too far," he added from where he stepped away to give Clarks a semblance of space.

"I'm so happy you're alive," Madison said, in almost a whimper, pulling her kids to her once again, planting a kiss to each their temple.

When she let go, Nick said: "You need to get out of here right now. Proctor John survived, along with one or two of his loyal guard dogs. If he was pissed before, now he must be enraged. He'd be looking for any of us. He's preparing to stretch his net along the coast up to Texas, so we better steer clear and keep our eyes peeled for any of his gang. I imagine he's a rather vengeful man."

"You imagine right," Strand said. He looked spooked. "Let's not waste our time, then."

"All right, let's go," Madison said, and made a step after Strand, but then frowned and stopped, seeing the siblings weren't moving. Her frown deepened at their solemn faces. "What is it? What's going on?"

"I'm not coming," Nick said. He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. "Troy's waiting in the car. We're going on our own."

Her face expressed a heartbreak, and then there was a ghost of the familiar disappointment beneath it. It reached out and cut Nick. And  _that_ he did feel.

She battled herself for a moment, then said: "He can go with us. Let's just go and discuss it late—"

Nick was smiling, and it stopped her. He imagined it should seem misplaced, and it was. There was no humor in it. "I told you back at the dam, Mom. I'm not gonna talk about it, or argue, or discuss anything. I just wanna go. Please. Don't try to convince me of anything or pour some more shit on him. It's not gonna cha—"

"You mean I shouldn't remind you who he is? WHAT he is?" Her face pinched with self-righteous indignation. "What you've chosen over your family? Over your mother, your sister? Your blood? He's a killer, Nick. He doesn't feel anything for you. He'll throw you under the bus the first chance he gets—"

"He's been pulling me from under all the busses all this time, mom," he countered, unwilling to raise his voice the way she did. Unwilling to play into it and make a scene when people carrying water from the river were already shooting glances their way. Strand was hovering nearby, scowling and darting ganders around to make sure no proctors were going to shoot him any moment.

"Yes, while it's convenient to him," she said, her eyes sharp like glass shards. "He's insane, Nick. He's not thinking straight whenever new rush of adrenaline shoots up in his head, and he's gonna get you killed or even do it himself while you sleep. Like he almost did to me when we were out scouting."

Nick narrowed his eyes, momentarily taken aback by the confession she had never shared before – conveniently so while she was trying to make a puppet out of Troy.

Nick heaved a sigh. "He had his chances. But all he did was stopped a knife from stabbing me in the chest with his hand, and then taking out proctors around me so they wouldn't kill me before I could press that button."

"It was Walker," she announced with bitter irony, her eyes saying 'How much more stupid can he make you'. "He stayed behind to cover for us."

"So did Troy," he said. "And it wasn't Walker who pulled me and Alicia from the water. It was Troy. And it's not about him, mom. I just wanna go my way now. I need it. I can see you don't understand, but maybe you can accept it someday. I just need to be away for now."

She sighed, vexed and frustrated. "We just found each other after something we shouldn't have survived, Nick. You can't just walk away from me. We're a family. You're my children. Please, Nick, we can't be separated. You'll be sorry if you go. I know it, trust me, I know. You will regret it, but it could be too late."

He smiled, took her face in his hands and planted a long, tender kiss on her forehead, then stepped back. "I love you, Mom. But I have to take my chances here. You should leave now. Be safe."

He cast a glance at Alicia, as if to say she could do her own farewells now. "I'll be at the car," he mouthed and started to walk away.

"If you think he loves you, Nick, he doesn't!" Madison sent after him. He heard despair in her voice. He felt it grasp at him as he went. "He never will. He'll betray you. Please, Nick."

He kept going, his eyes locked on the car where Troy sat. It was harder to breathe. But it was good to have it done.

* * *

Troy couldn't hear what they were saying from where he sat but if he was truly honest — despite his obsessive curiosity — he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

A fleeting thought that diminished and peaked when she shouted at Nick's back, making whatever parting words they'd had as clear as day.

Madison didn't like Troy and didn't trust him. He'd known that from the go, when she first met him and she'd had good reason for that mistrust back then – they all did – but after everything, after what he'd done for her, what she'd done for him and to him, they still hadn't hit an understanding?

When Nick was close, Troy reached over and pulled the handle on the passenger's door for him, offering him a protein bar once Clark climbed in, along with the last of their remaining water.

"Looks like that went well. You okay?"

Nick slumped in the seat with a wince and pulled his door closed. He was anything but hungry, but accepted the bar and water, nonetheless. He took a sip and screwed the cap back on.

"She said you'll never love me, but yeah, I'm okay."

He inspected the protein bar, then put it on the dashboard.

Troy furrowed his eyebrows, swallowing back an almost awkward laugh that wanted to bubble to the surface. If there was one thing he had come to realize in these last few days, it was that Madison didn't know him at all – not as he'd assumed or needed – and downplayed every thought or word that came out of his mouth. She knew exactly how he felt about her son, he'd told her as much the same day she tried to kill him.

"I do love you," he stated, straight-faced and serious, unsure of why he needed to make that truth known when the word itself and its sentiment were contrived. "I know it's a bit weird, and that maybe, with everything that's been happening and with what you know that you might think it's unbelievable. But uh… I do. You're a good friend. A brother."

Nick was expecting him to burst out laughing before he jibed back with some silly insinuation like he did before many times.

He wasn't prepared for what came out of Troy instead at all. It blew all the thoughts out of Nick's head leaving an utterly white blank page of nothing. He just stared at Otto, lost for any proper response.

He wasn't surprised much by this admission of seeing him as a friend and maybe even a brother to replace what Troy had lost. But Nick preferred it non-spoken, something neither needed to confess.

"She just… seemed to be getting some wry ideas concerning why I was leaving with you," he said slowly, feeling all kinds of awkward. "So she said that… You shoulda laughed. But since you rarely do what I expect from you, Otto, all that you said… I know. I don't need to hear it to know."

"As long as you know," Troy stated with the same tone of delivery. He didn't want Nick thinking that the fact that Troy was accepting his crazy was because of some weird need to stick it to his mother. What they had, their friendship, it meant something even if Troy wasn't always good at expressing that.

He should have let Jake know that, he'd tried at times, but something or someone always got in the way of that, and besides, it was complicated.

Also, what Troy did behind the scenes didn't always help matters.

"By the way, I didn't know you swung that way. I thought you were all about the ladies."

Nick rolled his eyes but was unable to hold back an amused chuckle, shaking his head. The fact that Nick laughed was enough to make Troy crack a smile.

"That was the punch line 'cause I don't swing that way," Nick said. "I really hope you don't, either, but I won't judge." He gave Troy a smirk, then replicated his sincere expression, raising his hands: "As long as you know."

* * *

Madison stared at Nick's retreating form for a long time, her eyes prickling with the promise of tears.

"Madison, we have to go," Strand called from behind her, backtracking a few steps in his urgency.

She heaved a sorrowful sigh and turned on her heel, slowly trekking behind him. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder when she realized Alicia wasn't following.

"Alicia?"

She shook her head. "I'm not coming either, Mom."

Madison stared at her in much the same manner she had Nick, disbelieving, wounded, and with rising frustration.

"Nothing's changed since the ranch," Alicia added.

Madison briefly closed her eyes, and Alicia could tell she was tempted to pinch the bridge of her nose as if she had an oncoming headache. A move she'd always pulled when Alicia was slow to put away her laundry or do the dishes after dinner. A move that in the past had the power to incite Alicia with guilt. Not so much this time.

"It  _is_ different," Madison insisted. "You don't have any rations this time, Alicia. No car, no weapons. You won't make it on your own."

"I got Nick," she shrugged, and watched as her mother's gaze darkened and turned to the Jeep behind them.

If looks could kill…

"You're going with Nick? With Troy?! You can't trust him, Alicia!" She was shouting again, making Strand grimace and crouch slightly where he had stopped, as if he worried her voice would attract bullets.

"I know," Alicia said. "I don't." But she didn't entirely trust Madison, anymore, either. And that was part of the problem.

"Then don't go with him!"

Madison caught the echo of her own voice and forcefully reeled herself in, closing the space between them to take her daughter's hands in hers. She softened, her tone imploring.

"Troy is not safe. You don't know all the things he's done."

"It's not about Troy," Alicia replied, her frustration rising as well. "It's about me. I told you, I don't want to live in fear anymore. I don't want to chase after something better, because I don't think it exists anymore. I know this new world is hard for you because it's unpredictable and chaotic, and so completely different from the life we had. It scares you. It scares me, too. But we want different things, Mom. We need different things to thrive. And I don't want to do things your way anymore. I can't."

Madison narrowed her eyes at Alicia, her voice soft and low, but Alicia could sense the anger there.

"I've had to make some very hard decisions, Alicia. To ensure our survival. And because I made those decisions, you've had the luxury of not having to. Don't fool yourself into thinking it will be easier on your own, that you can play this game with a clear conscience. It doesn't work like that. I've protected you."

Alicia almost laughed, but there was no humor there. Only sadness.

"It's not a game, Mom. And I understand that you've been trying to keep us safe, keep me safe. But all the lies, all the secrets, the game-playing… You're not protecting me. You're making me helpless."

They both fell silent. Alicia thought her words had taken her mother by surprise. Madison certainly looked it. They stared at each other for a long time, and Alicia quietly tried to make her understand, to accept her decision.

Madison sniffled a little, quickly wiped her nose with her sleeve, and turned to Strand. "Victor, the map."

He hesitated a moment before making the walk back to them, withdrawing a folded map from his back pocket. He handed it to Madison, and she opened it, searched for something.

"Here," she said, pointing to a marker on the map. "There's a gas station, about four hours from here. Two days from now at noon, Strand and I will be there."

Strand groaned quietly, close to rolling his eyes. Madison ignored him.

"We'll be there. If you change your mind–" Alicia could tell Mom believed she would. "Come meet us, okay?"

Alicia knew she wouldn't come. Neither would Nick. But she nodded anyway, made a note of the marker and the road. She doubted Madison would let her go without another fight otherwise.

"Okay."

Madison handed the map back to Strand and pulled Alicia into a hug so tight it hurt. She kissed the top of her youngest child's head as Alicia slid her arms back around her mother.

"I love you so much, baby," Madison whispered.

"I love you too, Mom."

They parted. Alicia offered a small smile and an awkward wave at Strand, squeezed Mom's hand one last time, then turned and walked away.

* * *

Nick unscrewed the cap and took another sip of water, shooting a brief glance at Madison and Alicia. They seemed to be doing take two of the talk he'd just had.

"I told Alicia about the horde," he confessed. "I had to. Only the horde – not Jake. You better not revisit that subject, especially with the arguments you used on mom in the tunnels."

"You mean you told her what I did?" Troy asked, feeling irked and sort of betrayed. "That I spent two days gathering and walking them? When'd you do that? This morning? Last night? I guess I should be grateful she hasn't tried to bash my head in yet."

"What I told her was that mom tried to kill you for the ranch and the horde," Nick explained. "She connected the rest herself because she's been suspecting it all along, like many others. I didn't go into any details. She dashed after you with scissors from the med kit, I talked her down. She's still grieving, but she knows you saved my life and you pulled her out of the water. She knows that you came to warn me about the horde. She knows you lost your world with that ranch, too. She just needs time to grieve. Just try not to remind her about those things. She endured a hell of a lot because of what you did. She won't kill you for it – she's not my mom – but she's allowed to be hurt. Okay?"

Troy measured his reasons for spilling a secret that they'd been burying — at Nick's insistence — since Troy'd first rocked up and Nick had chosen not to kill him. Troy had asked and pleaded as twisted weariness weighed him down from the loss of his brother, he'd been more than prepared to eat that bullet and accept his fate.

Nick had shoved him out of that weak state of mind and thrust him back into reality, back into the same state that had always controlled Troy and taken care of the really emotional shit.

And then, it was smooth sailing and excitement.

That's what this life was.

At least most the time.

Troy leaned back in his seat and peered past Nick at Alicia who was starting toward them. She looked equally as broken as her brother had been a couple of minutes ago.

"Okay," he answered finally, offering a slow nod of agreement and acceptance. He'd do what he could, but even he knew that promises could easily be broken in the heat of the moment. "Now that you've found your mother and said your goodbyes. Any idea where you want to go next? You two have been getting quite a bit off your chests, do you have plans?"

Alicia didn't dare look back, worried there might be tears if she had to witness the devastation on Mom's face for one second longer. She climbed back in the car, understanding by the sudden silence between the two up front that they had either been talking about her, or something she was not supposed to know. It didn't matter.

She pulled one leg up on the seat with her to get more comfortable, freed the knife from her boot and carefully twirled it between her fingers, trying to get a feel for it. Chances were she'd have to make use of it sooner or later.

"All done."

"We ride to California and as far from the dam as we can," Nick answered Troy's question. "Better stay away from the coastline, since they plan on building their net there or something. So, it's up North we go. That good enough for now?"

Troy started up the ignition and cast curious a glance at Alicia in the rear-view mirror as she made herself comfortable, briefly wondering if she was planning to thrust the dagger she was toying with into the back of his skull.

He now knew she had a reason, that she had the truth, and despite Nick's assurances, Troy also knew the female Clarks had a will of their own. From what he'd seen and knew of Alicia's, hers was as fiery as her mother's, although less self-righteous in its flare. The true heroine of this story.

He waited a beat and then put the jeep into first, a lazy smile playing onto his lips.

"Back toward the states? That's perfect."


	6. Chapter 6

**RIVER FLOWS NORTH — PART 4**

Alicia didn't object to the destination her brother had in mind, and neither did Troy. Their location wouldn't matter much, anyway. The whole world was the same now in all its cruel and brutal glory.

She could already tell she wouldn't be able to handle the new knife as effortlessly as she had her last, but she would make do. And she would learn. She'd always been a quick study. Alicia kept her gaze on the weapon as she practiced, glad to have an excuse not to meet Troy's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"We're going to have to stop for fuel," Troy said. "We should definitely stop for more water and food. Do any of you know how to hunt? Deer, cougar. I know Nick tried to give it a whack once but he didn't get very far. How about you, Alicia?"

"Not really," she admitted, not overly excited at the prospect of facing a cougar. "I can fish with a rod," she continued after a while. "In theory, anyway."

"Fishing in theory can't be as productive as the actual fishing," Nick said lazily, letting his eyes close as he leaned back in the seat. "Given the drought down here, we might not have a chance to check and compare our theories. I'm sure deer and cougars try to stick close to water, too. Snakes, however, can be anywhere. I'd rather search the stores and houses, though, and leave all that excitement of tracking snakes and cougars to you."

"We're not driving back through town or any town for that matter – if we can help it," Troy stated, making sure they were clear he didn't want to risk running into the proctors. "These men, these people, they'll make a point of being everywhere. Especially if they're planning to expand their trade. They actually need trading goods for that."

Not that they didn't know that already and had probably figured as much.

"We need containers for water and fuel. We also need medicine. How much is left after last night?"

Alicia reached for the bag beside her and opened it, pulling the blanket and jacket out to do inventory.

"Two full bottles of water, in addition to the ones Nick and I started last night. One protein bar, some beef-jerky." She fished out the medical kit to have a glance inside. "There's still some gauze left, a few band-aids, some unidentified pills."

They were in a clear baggie. She assumed they were painkillers, but couldn't be sure. Nick would probably be able to identify them, though.

"And," she lifted the glass bottle they had purchased with Troy's gun earlier, "half a bottle of delightful moonshine."

"The bar's yours," Nick commented and pointed blindly toward the dashboard. "Mine's there and Troy's done and dusted. You can keep the moonshine, too. I'm not in the mood for a hangover tomorrow. I've met my limit of shitty for a week in advance."

Troy glanced at Nick shiftily as he offloaded the last of their food onto his sister without any consideration or hesitation to the fact that it could be split three ways. Was that the way it would be now? Alicia would be given the last handouts on principle? In Troy's world, you were forced to earn your place, to earn what you got and came into the party as an equal share. You had to in order to survive.

It wasn't a scenario appreciated or even got by many but Troy'd found those following him to be stronger for it – he was, wasn't he? He'd always believed that to be a big reason the ranch flourished for so long when the world had crumbled around it and become a mere ghost shell.

Nick reached under the seat, reclining it a tad, then struck a more comfortable pose, restraining his winces. It still hurt in a nasty way, like he had a cracked rib or maybe more of such. Not the best scenario, but he should be counting his blessings as it was.

After a bit, he dozed off.

They drove for some time on a dirt road flanked by nothing but sand, turning onto another less than twenty minutes later that ran alongside the outside of the city and along the beach.

Unlike most teens in the past who'd reveled in going to Mexico during summer, that wasn't a particular activity Troy indulged in, let alone experienced in the past despite Jake's very many trips since he turned sixteen. Troy'd just had no such interest—content with the farm, his own space, and his own people—and hadn't realized until this moment how compact the city was. How many homes, how many stores, and how many people needed to be taken care of.

As he viewed it now, it didn't surprise him that its population leaked into the states. It seemed inevitable, like rats who migrated at the first signs of trouble.

Troy was lost in his thinking, eyes glued to the roads and signs, wasted on every corner and peppering the streets like drunk tourists with nowhere to go.

He drove awhile longer and then slowed to a crawl as a grocery store came to view, a medium-sized building no bigger than a seven-eleven tucked between two abandoned restaurants.

He deviated off the road and drove in behind one of the bistros, cutting the engine as he pulled in tight behind it, getting out to take care of the dead alerted by their presence.

And why not?

They were on the run, sure, but they didn't have a time limit on when and where, and it seemed ill-conceived to bypass sources that could very well provide them with what they needed to keep them going for a couple days at a time – or even just a few more hours.

Alicia's appetite hadn't exactly returned since their whole ordeal at the dam, but she could tell her body was suffering from lack of nourishment. She grabbed the protein bar, tore at the wrapper and took a bite. It seemed to grow in her mouth the longer she chewed, but she managed to swallow it with some effort after a little while. She forced herself to take another bite, just to have something in her stomach and packed the rest away for later.

She was glad her brother was able to get some rest. He sure looked like he could use it.

She watched as Troy headed out to dispose of the walking dead. It seemed to be like a routine to him now.

She didn't want to wake Nick but was reluctant to leave him sleeping in the car in case trouble arose. She briefly contemplated her options, then got out, knife in hand, took care of a straggler that had deviated from Troy's group, and wiped the gore from her blade on the corpse's shirt.

"Jake's cabin," she said once Troy had finished. "Up in San Bernadino National Forest." He might have already been aware of it. She didn't know. But the way Jake had talked about the place, it seemed to have almost been a secret. "I was going to go there. Jake said there would be some supplies, grounds for hunting. Out of the way of the Proctors."

Alicia eyed Troy, slipping the knife into her back pocket for easy access.

"What do you think?"

Troy flicked the blood off his knife, reviewing the dead beneath his feet, feeling an innate urge to cut the wasted like a turkey at the mention of Jake's cabin.

He'd gone there for years with his friends during his college days. Place owned by their father and later bought over by Jake when he'd netted enough being a lawyer. A reward and one of the few things he'd done for himself. Troy'd never gone there himself – not since he was a kid – and he guessed in part Jake'd always preferred it that way.

Not that he ever said that aloud, but he didn't have to. Troy knew.

Jake dealt with all he could where Troy was concerned when it came to the ranch, stepping in between Jeremiah and his youngest as much as he could, letting Mike pick up the slack as they grew older.

"I think it's a good idea. From what I can remember there was a lot of hunting, a lot of water, cabins, a secure space—it would be the last place they'd look for us. Would Nick go for it? Or are you planning to make your own way there eventually?"

"I don't see why he wouldn't," Alicia replied, pleased that her idea wasn't immediately shut down and was taken into actual consideration. The thought of going to a place Jake considered a sanctuary wasn't exactly a temptation, especially if Troy was to join – his mere presence was a constant reminder of that awful day. But necessity trumped desire. It was the way it had to be now.

Troy stepped over the dead and took a slow walk in the direction of the grocery store, casting a passing look at the jeep where Nick appeared to be sleeping. "Are you going to stay with him?"

Alicia looked back over her shoulder at a still sleeping Nick. From what she saw it didn't seem likely he would wake on his own for a while yet. There was no more danger in sight, and it seemed unlikely anything could take them by surprise here. And yet… That's usually when shit hit the fan.

"Yeah, I'll stay," she said, leaning back against the car. "You can manage? Shout if you need backup?"

"I'll be fine," Troy supplied, grateful that she'd decided to stay and keep an eye on Nick while he slept. If she didn't, Troy would have. There was safety in numbers. "Is there anything you need specifically?" he asked, a polite means of waving a white flag and letting her know that even if she was pissed, they were all still in this together. "Girl things."

He'd done those runs many times over the last year and been requested more than one thing that might have made men tremble in their idealistic years. Hell, it was all just nature and necessity to him now. Like condoms and birth control, and like food it was the one thing you never overlooked.

His offer surprised Alicia. There was something highly comical about a military man being sent on a mission to procure feminine products. Didn't mean she didn't appreciate it.

"I wouldn't say no to a box of tampons if you come across one." She eyed the two dark restaurants on either side of the convenience store. Their restrooms would usually house dispensers for tampons, condoms, and one-use toothbrushes. If someone hadn't gotten to them yet, they might get lucky. "I'll do a sweep of the restaurants when you get back. Need to stretch my legs anyway."

"Sure thing," he said, giving a nod, strolling the rest of the way toward the grocery store. He flipped the knife in his hand and used the handle to knock on the back door, playing upon the surface like a drum until a series of distinctive groans rose from inside.

One of the dead mimicked the action from the other side, clumsy in its chorus and frantic.

He waited a beat and then tried the door, grateful to find that it opened with no hassle. Perhaps because someone had been there before or because the owners had fled in a hurry.

He used it as a shield and observed as six tumbled outside, squeezing past each other, clumsily shuffling to freedom and in search of Troy. When he was sure no others were set to join, he pushed the door closed with a bang and made work of disposing of them one by one as they returned to him.

Unlike most who were eager to wait this plague out and welcome the world back as it was before, he wasn't all that keen to swallow their former beliefs and moralities. Happy, content even, for this to go on and on until he ultimately joined his brother in the dirt. Not that he had any plans for that to be soon, but who knew what tomorrow would hold.

Troy approached the door again, opening it without hesitation this time, and quickly headed inside.

The wait outside was pleasantly uneventful, but of course, that gave Alicia's mind the time it needed to work up an alarming amount of concerns and guilty feelings. She looked back over her shoulder at a sleeping Nick, wondering how he was really faring after the whole Celia confession, and if it was something he'd ever get over. She worried he may try and take some of the blame onto himself, that his friendship with her was what had gotten her killed. It was wrong, but one always had such thoughts after someone died.

Troy returned thirty minutes later, carrying a cooler he'd stuffed with bottled water, an assortment of canned food, a couple packets of cheap Mexican cigarettes, a can opener and a small pot. Just enough to get them across the border.

"I didn't find any tampons," he remarked as he drew near, setting the cooler down, producing the pink box he had found of panty liners, offering them to her for inspection before loading it all into the back of the jeep.

It looked like a lot, a treasure to most, but in essence, it would only get them through two or three days.

Alicia threw her bottle back in the car and closed the door behind her. Her lips quirked ever so slightly at the box of panty liners he carried, but she didn't comment on why these would not do the same trick as tampons.

"Thanks." She handed them back his way so he could load his treasures into the car. "I'll take a look in there," she said, gesturing to the restaurant to the left and pushing away from the car. She didn't trust Troy, but it didn't feel likely he would try to hurt Nick in her absence. And she trusted Nick to turn him around should Troy decide to leave her behind here on one of his whims.

Alicia pulled her knife out as she walked, getting a good grip on it in case she'd need to use it.

The front doors had already been shattered, so there was no problem getting inside. This, of course, meant it was likely others had been here before them to clean the place out. Still, might as well check seeing as they were already here.

* * *

Dead leaves and sand littered the floor. It crunched under her boots as she walked, maneuvering through some overturned tables and chairs to get to the kitchen. She doubted she'd find something as wonderful as a bucketful of potato powder like last time.

She was right in her assumption. The kitchen storage had already been emptied of anything that could be considered edible. She did, however, find a few unopened packs of plastic cutlery under one of the rollaway counters, which she gathered and put in one of the large, empty food containers that had probably held fresh vegetables pre-apocalypse.

The container clanged loudly, hitting the floor once she opened the walk-in freezer to find one of the previous chefs. He was dead, but not as dead as she'd like him to be. He came at her, and she braced herself, driving her knife through his chin and up into his head. He stilled immediately.

She struggled slightly to free the blade from his skull, but managed eventually, wiping it clean on his white-ish uniform before she explored the freezer. It didn't hold much, but Alicia did find a packet of sausages and some sliced ham. Which was a rare treat these days unless you still had livestock.

She picked up the fallen container and put her frozen treats inside, carrying it on her hip like a makeshift basket as she made her way to the restrooms.

In the end, she came away with one and a half toilet rolls, five tampons, a nearly full bag of hand soap she ripped from the dispenser over the sink, and two pieces of gum meant to freshen one's breath.

* * *

Nick was still sleeping as Troy loaded the goodies into the backseat and slipped the liners into the cooler. There was no logical point in keeping their stuff scattered around because if push came to shove and they were forced to abandon ship, there was no way they were going to be able to grab everything, and at least this way they only had one focus.

He wanted to do the same with their ammo and weapons but he hadn't found a container to store them in, and with Alicia in the back, there wasn't exactly space. Overloading themselves would also bring more pain and interest. Attention that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

He closed the back door quietly and cast a look at his friend, turning to prop himself against the side of the jeep, patiently waiting on Alicia's return and ready to run in and help if need be.

Any reason to fight.

Unfortunately, she returned safely sometime later without a need for his assistance.

Alicia handed the frozen food items over to Troy so he could place them in his cooler with the rest of his haul. "We'll have to eat them before they spoil."

"Nice. Guess we know what we're having for lunch," he amended, opening the back door again, flipping up the cooler lid, and quickly transferring her goods to his.

When they were done, he gestured for the container she'd carried her stuff in and wiggled it through the door and onto the cooler, noting that, despite some of his reservations of having too much, it felt good being able to stock up and worry less about what they'd be eating for the next few days.

"If it gets too tin can in there for you we'll figure something else out and rearrange things," he said, snapping the lock on the door to prevent anything from falling out and closed the door.

She waved a hand as if to say "I'm fine" in response to his query about space, slipped her knife back into its sheath and found her seat.

He headed to climb in at the driver's door again. "Now we need fuel and jerry cans if we can find them in this sand pit."

His talk of jerry cans made Alicia remember a paper she had written on the subject of how jerry cans had helped the Allies win World War II. For a moment, nostalgia washed over her as the memory of sitting in her room at night, writing and researching with a hot mug of tea in hand, surfaced. Sentimental. And then, pissed off. How many useless things the school system had insisted they learn. She pushed the thought away as Troy got back in the car and pulled out onto the road. One glance at Nick indicated he was still asleep.

"Why didn't Mom and I end up in the cellar with the others?" she asked abruptly. "Back at the border. Why were we separated from the rest?"

A question she had pondered every now and then since it happened. At first, she had assumed they'd only put men down there. That for some reason, women received a gentler treatment. But upon learning about Luciana, that possibility went out the window.

So was it a race thing? Or had Troy's obsession with Madison started from the first moment he caught sight of her?

Troy hadn't expected that question, and he was pretty sure she wouldn't appreciate the answer but he'd decided to give it to her, anyway.

Why the hell not? He wasn't ashamed of what he did. He still wasn't. He'd learned a lot, and a lot of it had helped him understand not only what had happened but also more about himself.

Even if they viewed it as barbaric.

Besides, they weren't in a government-run area like Washington, but he was sure they were doing all kinds of testing, not only on the dead, but on the living, as well.

"You were white American. Female. Pretty. That isn't a collective we'd come across very often at the border. I told you that during your processing. Besides you weren't injured."

His answer, though not surprising, brought a sour taste to her mouth. It wasn't as if racism was something that had sprung up post-apocalypse, but she'd never seen it up close and ugly like this for herself.

Guess that's what was called white privilege.

"And if one of your men got injured? You'd send them down there to suffer the same fate?"

Her follow up question was ridiculous. She had to know that. They weren't living in a rainbow nation where everyone sang joy to the world. White did not always get on with black or brown, or even white, and visa versa.

It was a dog eat dog world and Troy gorged. Anyone in his position would have. Madison did – that much was clear now – and in this, they were a lot alike.

"If it wasn't a fatal injury and I knew they'd survive, then no. We had medical for that. A staff. But resources were limited and you couldn't just go about handing it out to every unfortunate soul who stumbled in with a bullet or bite. If we did, we'd have had nothing left to ourselves or our people."

He glanced back at her momentarily as he drove. "If you had limited resources and had to choose between your family and a stranger, you'd have done it?"

Alicia met his gaze, hard and cold, before she gestured in Nick's direction. "I'd choose him over anyone," she admitted, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. "Guess I was just wondering how important your people were to you. If you stopped caring for them the moment they no longer benefited your existence."

The look she was giving him now was one he'd never even seen her mother wear. She was livid, and he supposed if there was an opportunity, she'd have hit him.

He could see now why she and Jake had gravitated toward one another.

He gave a short sarcastic laugh. "Why would I? When things got tough and my father died and I no longer benefited them, they banished me. They abandoned me. Did I deserve it? Maybe. But I kept the ranch and the surrounding area clear of the dead, I enforced the rules – and if it wasn't for me – the place and our food stocks would have crumbled ages ago. My mistake was your mother. I should have killed her after she spooned my eye."

And he would have, too, had Jake not held me back.

Something must be broken in him, Alicia thought. Some wires in his head that got crossed or disconnected. Because he didn't seem to understand what had happened. Or he didn't want to.

His banishment had nothing to do with his usefulness, and everything to do with the fact he had tried to shoot Walker and his people once their two 'tribes' had merged. She wondered if he even comprehended why that was wrong. Probably not. And that said a lot about the man they were dealing with. It told Alicia that his personal need for vengeance meant more than the safety of those around him.

Though she realized Mom was not without her fault in this whole scenario. She had manipulated the Ottos from the start, and though Alicia dreaded Troy's last statement, she couldn't help but wonder how things would have turned out for all of them had she and her family never come to the ranch.

"Shoulda, woulda, coulda," she replied calmly, leaning back in her seat.

Her observation was not what he expected in regards to his view on what he should have done to her mother. He'd expected more disgust, hatred and possible swearing.

"Definitely should have," he retorted in agreement, eyes briefly dipping to Nick who still appeared to be out of it and unaware of their conversation before settling on the road again. "Do you miss Jake? Did you love him?"

A flush of heat crept up the back of her neck, the kind that earlier had Alicia reaching for the scissors with the intention of burying them in Troy's chest. Her jaw clenched, and she had to force herself to take a breath to stay calm. Nick was right. She didn't want to be the kind of person who hurt others if it could be helped. Even Troy Otto. Still, it suddenly became increasingly more difficult to cling to that thought.

She couldn't tell whether Troy's question was genuine, or just an attempt to get a rise out of her. Alicia sought his gaze in the rearview mirror. "You really wanna go there?"

With a quick glance in the rear-view mirror, he could see that now he'd hit a nerve – a real nerve – one that even the mention of murdering her mother hadn't set off.

Was she that mad? He knew they no longer wanted to be with Madison and that Nick felt smothered by her — he'd confessed as much during their high excursion — but what was Alicia's issue with her? Why did she want to pull away from her in a world where not seeing each other for years, months or ever were a sure-fire possibility? What had she done to her?

They'd seemed close.

"Is there a reason the question is hard to answer?"

Alicia swallowed, averting her gaze, because looking at him seemed to only make the anger inside her grow. If it had been Nick asking her these questions, she would have answered without much difficulty. Because she knew with absolute certainty, he'd never use it against her. He'd never use Jake's death as a means to hurt her.

But Troy – the indirect cause of Jake dying in the first place, he'd use it to his advantage if he could. Hell, to him her emotions might even serve as some creepy experiment of the human mind. She didn't want to make herself more vulnerable to attacks from him than she already was.

So she made herself cold, with the same ease she had towards Mom and Nick and Travis when life's chaos was raging around them and they were all too preoccupied to see her. She cleared her face of the blazing anger and the sorrow she had yet to truly begin to experience. "I miss him. I didn't love him."

Troy observed the way she averted her gaze like someone lying to avoid admitting the truth. They'd only known each other a few months, so it was possible, love was fickle, and in times when things fell apart, it was easily adopted to stave off loneliness.

Even he'd been guilty of it in respects to sex.

"Did you tell him that?"

It was strange to think Troy and Jake were brothers. They were so different, not just in morals but how they perceived themselves. But every now and then, Alicia saw a glimpse of similarity. It was the eyes mostly. And the smile.

And, perhaps, that was another reason Troy could now so easily get under her skin – because he was a walking, talking reminder that the wrong brother had died.

"He suspected," she admitted in a low murmur. "When I wouldn't leave the ranch with him, he thought I had seduced him for Mom's sake. Manipulated him. That Nick had manipulated you for the same reason."

Troy nodded, half expecting she might have said otherwise or attempted to keep up a front to prevent an altercation, and found himself impressed. "Did you manipulate him?"

He didn't have to know about Nick, and nor did Troy even think there was truth to that. After everything, what could Troy have given him? He had nothing, and yet Nick continued to stick around and travel with him.

Alicia kept her gaze at the window, shook her head. "I don't play games like that. I wasn't in love with him, doesn't mean I didn't care."

And she had cared. Truly. Jake Otto had been a good man. One of the few she had encountered in this new world. And he'd deserved a better fate than what he got.

She now wondered: if it wasn't for her, whether he'd have gone to the cabin by himself. He could have been saved. Now that was a crushing thought. "Did you love him?"

That was a relief. Troy was used to the easygoing atmosphere that Nick offered him, and the fact that Nick was so honest about everything. Troy'd have loathed to look on every interaction like something he had to monitor again in order to put on a certain mask.

"I did," he responded after a brief dissection of his own beliefs, feeling something he thought was comparable to guilt. It didn't last, and he'd barely registered it before it was gone.

Before going to negotiate with Walker a second time, Jake had insinuated that Troy hadn't wanted him to return, that maybe the youngest Otto wanted his brother dead and no longer desired him in his life, and at times—especially when they disagreed on views — it felt like Troy wanted nothing more. But now that Jake was gone and Troy knew he'd never hear his judgement again, he felt unknowingly different, and as if he would welcome all that bullshit with open arms.

At least Troy might have. He liked to think that he would.

It's what Alicia had expected him to say, and yet she wasn't sure if she believed him. That was unfair of her, she knew it. She just didn't understand how you could love someone and still want to hurt them, and she was sure Troy had wanted to on several occasions. Like a child playing too rough with a pet, and not comprehending why they suddenly stopped moving and breathing. Something almost beyond his control.

"Why didn't you stay with your mother?"

She heaved a sigh, his question feeling too enormous to truly address all at once.

"Several reasons. Main one being we're too different. We have the same goal, but we choose different paths. Hers is not for me. I don't want it." She paused a moment, eyeing Nick again. "Do you care about Nick?"

"Yeah. Of course. We're friends," he replied, darting a look at Nick to see if he'd woken up during their talk or if he was still out.

Was that even possible that he hadn't, or had Nick just not slept well the night before? What if it was worse, and the internal bleeding had caught up to him and they hadn't noticed?

Troy reached over, index finger impulsively extended beneath Nick's nose to wait for the telltale sign of his breathing. When it came, hot and steady, he removed the hand and relaxed, internally kicking himself for being so stupid. "Do  _you_  think I care about Nick?"

"Don't know yet," she answered honestly, shrugging out of her denim jacket. Ever since yesterday, it smelled of dirty river water, and the scent was starting to make her feel unwell. If Troy was feeling charitable enough he might allow her to make use of one of the jackets she found last night.

"I think you like him." She reached for the bag they'd been carrying, rummaging around inside until she found the blanket, and folded it neatly. "Don't know you well enough to know if you care."

Though she was certain whatever Troy felt in regards to Nick was the only reason he had pulled her back from the brink of death. So, there had to be something there.

Alicia pushed the blanket to the window so she could rest her head against it, the side that wasn't injured, and she shifted a little in her seat to get comfortable. "Don't hurt him. I'll blow your brains out."

Troy appreciated her honesty and laughed. It wasn't that he didn't think she couldn't do it, it was that he knew she could follow through with the threat and would. There was a harmony in that awareness, a fact that made him think that, in time, they, too, could be friends, and that maybe her thinking wasn't too far off from what Nick and Troy shared.

Assuming their conversation had ended on that note, Troy set the volume on the radio to low and turned it on, scowling as a slur of Mexican peeled from the speakers.

He inhaled and forced himself to keep it on, to drown out the silence and bide a bit of time on a trip that was going to take some time.

Determined that on their next stop he'd make a point of finding new music.

Alicia thought she dozed off for a few, but woke again once Troy pulled over at a gas station. They managed to scavenge some fuel from the pumps, as well as the few abandoned vehicles in the parking lot. But the shop itself was completely barren. No more food or drinks to be found.

She got behind the wheel this time, taking her turn to drive so Troy could get some rest. In theory, anyway. She had a sense he didn't feel completely confident in her ability to take them where they needed to go.

* * *

The burning estate transfixes Nick. He stands there forever, unable to move, to run there and see if everyone's gotten out safe. He just stands and watches, feeling terror at the sight fill his chest with heavy lead.

His mother's voice is calling him, imploring to get in the car with her and flee to the next place that would be in ruins within days or weeks or months after they'd get in.

He can't. All he can do is watch it burn, feel it burn deep inside him while he witnesses it, and the flames are reflecting in his eyes as though the very one burning inside of him. He hears the dead walk around him, making sounds as though they regret seeing such devastation. Some of their own were there, inside. Trapped.

Like Celia.

The thought is a flash of lightning in his head. It frees him, and Nick finally can run there. No people seem to be left around, and the flames are too bright and hot in most rooms. The smoke is choking him, making his chest bust with hurt, but he doesn't care. Coughing makes him feel like he could spit a lung out. He forces himself to continue, scared to call her name. Some weird feeling deep down shuts his mouth. Some bad feeling that he would hate to find what he's seeking.

The house where they keep the dead is still locked – at least, it seems that way. There is no one behind the black bars, but the orange haze from the fire downstairs in the cellar. Nick leans into the grid to hear if anyone's calling for help down there, and it slides open. There has been no lock.

He hesitates, then hurries inside and down the stairs. The cellar is like scorching hell. It's all fire, smoke and walking figures engulfed in flames. They stroll around aimlessly, but don't seem to notice him. As if his disguise is still working.

He doesn't care about that much. Futilely pressing the hem of his dirty shirt to his nose and mouth, he cautiously picks his way along the burning walkers, coughing as he goes.

He sees her. She stands with her back to him, not even trying to get away. The fire's raging around her, but she seems untouched by it.

"Celia," he tries to call, but his throat's too constricted to make a sound. He reaches out a hand, approaching her, but she turns before he can touch her.

Her eyes have lost their color, they stare through him now, but he knows she sees him. She smiles; it's a sad smile, a smile of pity. Her mouth is moving, and at first, he thinks it's like with other dead – the biting snaps. But then, it seems like a pattern, like she actually is trying to tell him something he would understand.

It pains him to see her like that, and he knows it's a suicide, but he feels he owes it to her to try. And he comes closer to hear what she says. It's so damn quiet, and the fire is crackling so loudly.

Her mouth is almost touching his ear, her cold fingers squeeze on his shoulders as she draws him closer to pass her last message. Her hair is tickling his face.

"Ella te maldijo," she hisses. Her teeth sink into his neck.

* * *

Nick woke in a jerk, gasping and immediately wincing as it filled his chest with pain. It was the car, and, surprisingly, Alicia behind the wheel.

They had crossed the border into the States and were driving up Interstate 8, close to switching to one of the smaller back-roads by the time Nick gasped awake. His sudden reaction took her by surprise, and she stared at him for several seconds before forcing her gaze back to the road. He looked scared as hell.

"You okay?"

Awareness slipped back in, replacing the dream with reality. He brushed a hand over his neck, still feeling her teeth on him. It was already twilight outside. And his body ached all over after having to stay in one pose for hours. Wincing, he worked the kinks out of his neck, touching his fingers to that spot again unwittingly.

He rubbed his eyes as if it was going to make the vision abandon his memory. It didn't. He took a cautious half-breath, refraining from wincing, and glanced at her. "Yeah, I'm… just a bad dream."

He made himself smile and cast a gander at the backseat, making sure she didn't ditch Troy somewhere like he was sure she was tempted to do multiple times.

"I shouldn't have slept," he said, trying to make himself comfortable in the damn seat and finding there was barely a way, anymore. "My head's heavy. It's weird I didn't wake earlier. I'm a very sound sleeper." He gave her an assessing look. "Are you feeling okay? We can stop for the night somewhere already, 'cause everybody here but me needs their sleep, too."

"Soon," she said. "I wanna get us off the interstate, into the more forested areas. We'll need to make a fire."

Glancing between him and the road, she shot him a small smile.

"Sausages for dinner."

He gave another placating smile at the notion of dinner, but in truth, he didn't feel like eating anything. Which couldn't be good, but there it was.

Alicia considered him. He looked disorientated, and though he was putting on a brave face, she could tell something was weighing heavily on his mind.

"Nightmare, huh? What was it about?"

Her question made him frown. He didn't want to revise it. "I don't know, it was a mix of things," he lied, eyeing the prairie and the mountains framing the road. "One of those weird ones you forget when you wake."

Alicia had a pretty good idea of what was on his mind. But she couldn't force him to talk about it. Could she?

"It wasn't your fault," she said, glancing at him again. "What Mom did… it wasn't your fault. You know that, right?"

Nick almost laughed. Laughter would have been a painful work, and not even just physically. He rather felt like crying, but there were no tears. Like they were stuck inside, swelling and aching there like a giant lump blocking his airways and making his breathing hurt.

"You heard what she said, Alicia," he reasoned tiredly, watching the terrain. "She did it to protect me from a woman that had been nothing but kind to me all along. She talked to me, she listened to me, she let us all stay, and my mother decided I needed to be protected from her. It's fucking clear as day. And it's done. It's a fact."

"Celia died because Mom made the decision to kill her. Mom." Alicia took one hand off the steering wheel and reached for his. "Not because you did something wrong, but because Mom felt threatened. Because she couldn't control the situation. And that is not on you, Nick. It's just not."

"It's not about who made that choice, it's about why."

He still refused to look at her even when her hand grasped for his. It was touching him deeply that she tried to do her best to lift it off him, but at the same time, it was pissing him off that she was willing to bend the truth to make him feel better. It was somewhere along the line what Madison would try to do at times. And it wasn't fair to either of them, because the truth was the truth.

"She probably thought that my listening and trying to understand meant I was taking up some new fucked up religion or something. Like… trying a yet new kind of drug. Again. So yeah, it's me. It's on me and always will be. I had to make her understand what I was doing, but I didn't feel I needed to. I was just trying to make sense of things and see if I could find a common ground with Celia. I just let her believe what she believed, I let her have it, and her son who she needed to have back. But all my good intentions fucked up the whole thing. People died. And Celia died. Because she was viewed as that new drug brand that was so bad for my hazy fucking brain."

Silence ensued on her part while he was talking, getting things off his chest, and it lasted a good while after he stopped. She didn't know how to convince him he was not at fault. Same as how she had not known how to impart on him he was free of guilt when she, Travis and Mom were captured and detained by Troy and his men because they were looking for him. Her brother had a tendency of clinging to his guilt, of harboring a sense of self-loathing even if he did an admirable job of pretending otherwise. She could relate on occasion, but it still killed her he was trying to carry all that darkness by himself.

"Are you grieving?" she asked cautiously. "Or are you too angry for that?"

Nick thought about it. He probably was grieving, all right. But he wasn't sure if he was angry, anymore. He felt too worn out for anything like that. He was just scared that it was finally too much. Scared that he had to live with it, and it felt so heavy that it made him want to die.

But what he told his sister was: "I'll be fine. I just need some time to bury it among the things I'll never be able to fix, and I'll be as good as new. It's a habit I've been abusing for so many years, after all. Don't worry about me."

Alicia gave a slight smile. "I'll stop worrying about you when you stop worrying about me."

Which they both knew would never happen. It wasn't just the way they'd been raised to care about each other; it was instinct. As deep and primal as anything else true and genuine she had ever felt. You always worried about the ones you loved.

"I'm trying to make you feel better because I love you," she confessed, withdrawing her hand so she could successfully pull onto a road marked '79'. "Because it hurts me to know you are suffering. And so, in that way I am selfish. And I'm sorry about that. You feel what you need to feel to get through this. But I can't stop worrying, Nick. It's impossible."

"I know," he confirmed. "And if it'll make you feel any better, it'd all be a thousand times worse without you. But at the same time, having you with me scares the shit outta me because all I ever did to you was utter shit. You brought me comfort, and I failed you, left you, lied to you, disappointed you, then left again. I'm scared as hell I will make you regret your choice, because it has always gotten down to it. And it wasn't because I didn't love you, but because I didn't know what to do with all of it. What to do with myself. I'm not fully sure I know it now."

Alicia didn't think she'd ever be able to fully let go of the past, of all the trials and tribulations their family had been through. But it no longer seemed to matter as much as it used to.

She appreciated Nick's ability to self-reflect. There was a time when he was too heavily into the drugs that he didn't quite manage that. At least not in front of her on those few occasions they saw one another. But he was different now.

* * *

Troy didn't manage to fall asleep once they'd changed positions. He couldn't; he was hyped, and the day overall was an exciting one — what with their return to the states.

He didn't have a home, anymore, and nothing he could label and go back to, but he didn't mind all that much.

Not anymore. There was nothing to do about it.

Although, if he wanted, he could return to the ranch, clear away the horde and start from the bottom. He suspected one other person in the party wouldn't be inclined to that concept and that it would crop up ugliness.

Maybe, if and when things fell flat and the Clarks — now that they were a team again — decided three was a crowd and they no longer needed him, Troy could revisit that concept. It was a possibility if he were to understand their conversation correctly.

He wasn't a model citizen, and these two were carrying around enough guilt to choke a horse.

Like Jake.

It would only be a matter of time before Troy's personality reared and viewpoints started conflicting. It always did. When he and Alicia had spoken earlier and she'd made the comment about Jake's belief, about his feeling and questioning if she'd manipulated him, Troy had automatically defended the notion in regards to Nick. Yet, maybe, he'd been naïve and optimistic.

As he'd eavesdropped to her trying to make Nick feel better — and his rejection — Troy wondered if that was how Nick felt about Jeremiah and if that was why he continued to stick with Troy.

She tried to appease his mind and make him feel better—like Troy did a while ago, forgiving him for Jeremiah's murder, not because it was right but because it was done and there was very little to do in the way of changing it —but had Nick accepted it? And was that a part of the reason he'd stuck with Troy?

Did it matter?

The more Troy listened, the more he came to the conclusion that it did. Nick's guilt controlled him, dumped him in situations with his mother he clearly didn't want to be in and suffocated him.

As much as Troy valued their friendship, he wasn't all that fond of the idea of their relationship heading that way and feeling like he had to monitor his personality or do things differently so he wouldn't add to that internal conflict.

Troy kept his eyes closed, forcing himself to stay relaxed, and continued to eavesdrop on their conversation, learning more about the two than he assumed he would ever be privy to while awake.

* * *

"You need to stop thinking I'm perfect, Nick. I never have been. We're both going to make mistakes going forward. It can't be avoided. What matters is that we stick together, that we're honest about who we are and who we want to be. We'll figure it out."

He chuckled and turned to give her an incredulous look. "You're saying all that and you still want me to believe you're not perfect? Do you hear yourself?"

"I'm not." And it kind of scared Alicia that he thought she was. It meant his disappointment would be that much greater once he figured it out. Another heavy blow to shake his world.

They were getting closer to the forest and mountains now, trees popping up every now and then, their population seemingly increasing the further they drove, slowly replacing that of the desert wasteland.

"I've been thinking," she said after a while, hands tightening a little on the steering wheel. "About Su-Su. Mrs. Tran."

She had been their next-door neighbor in Los Angeles, and had taken care of Nick and Alicia when they were little while Mom and Dad were at work.

"She had this jewelry box up in her bedroom that I loved exploring because all her trinkets were so exciting and unlike anything I had ever seen before. Most of them from China, I think. Anyway, there was one day I was upset, crying, I can't remember why."

It had been the year Nick went off to kindergarten, and for the first week, Alicia had cried and cried, missing her big brother during the day and not quite comprehending why she couldn't come with him to that magical place they would pick him up from every afternoon.

"To comfort me, Su-Su gave me one of her pins to borrow, and she told me stories of her home country, which to me at the time sounded like crazy fairy tales. But I loved it. And I loved her for taking care of me. And I remember a while later when Mom came home from work and it was time for me to go home as well, that I didn't want to. I wanted to stay with Su-Su because we were having so much fun and I loved her. I told Mom that."

She frowned, almost squinting as if that would make the memory clearer.

"And it seemed to make her mad, in that cold angry way she can get. A few days later, she got me set up in daycare. Said Mrs. Tran was getting too old, didn't have enough energy anymore to look after kids. I was sad but didn't question it."

Not until now.

"I just wonder if… Mom has been pushing people away from us for a very long time."

It got clear rather soon where she was going with her aunt Susu. Nick felt another pang of guilt for steering her thoughts that way. Neither needed to discover even more to that topic and make a list of crimes. It was their mother, and even though she had some selfish urges that turned grim-reaper bad after the apocalypse, she still loved them in her own twisted way. Nick didn't want to cause Alicia's resentment by wallowing in his Celia problem.

And then, just as she thought of Susu, he thought about Dad. About every time he noticed the same look mom had been using for Nick executed on Dad. It probably cut the same kind of deep. So deep Dad couldn't take it, anymore.

"It's a dangerous road, Lisha," he said, turning to look at her with a hint of a sad smile. "Once you start on it, you can't stop, and the slope's getting worse until you tumble down and can't get up. Don't do it to yourself."

"It is a dangerous road," she agreed. "And it may all be circumstantial. But some of it might be true."

That was one of the horrors of growing up – realizing your parents had flaws, coming to understand why they'd acted like they always had. It was an awakening, but not always a welcome one.

"I always hoped you and I would get to vacation together," she said after another bout of silence, a small mischievous smile playing on her lips. "I was thinking after college, and Europe, but…'The Middle of Nowhere, America' works too. I'll take it."

"An eternal vacation works great until you're fed up with too much of me," he said, chuckling, and reached for the water bottle.

"Are you planning on being annoying?" Alicia grinned, pulling over onto a dirt road that would hopefully lead to a place they could park and camp for the night. At least it would be hard to spot them from the main road, leaving them safe from the proctors and other potential crews of opportunists.

The dead? Well, that was harder to prepare for.

"I don't plan these things, it happens naturally," he played back.

She came to a halt at the end of the road where a small makeshift parking lot seemed to have been constructed pre-apocalypse. Probably to accommodate hikers and the like. She didn't turn off the ignition, leaving the headlights on a beat longer so their view was clear.

"What do you think? Good enough for one night?"

He looked around through the windows. "We'll need one on the watch at all times if we sleep outside. And then it might be fine."

"That would be the best option in most locations," she countered, remembering how, when she was on her own, she hadn't felt safe to sleep much even in what would be considered relatively safe shelters. She turned the car off and handed the keys to Nick before jumping out, moving to the back of the jeep to claim one of the military jackets for herself, and a functioning flashlight.

Nick stepped out of the car, closing the door as quietly as he could, and went to open the trunk. He found his handgun, considered it, and left it in. Too much noise wasn't good.

"I'll take a quick look around," she said, indicating the edges of the lot where she would still be in their view, but would also gain a better sense of where they were and how to best utilize this space for the night. "Maybe wake sleeping beauty?"

She considered helping herself to one of Troy's guns for added safety. That would surely have woken him right up.

"Wake up, Troy, we stopped for the night," Nick called and closed the trunk, strolling after Alicia and searching the terrain for any staggering silhouettes.

Troy waited a minute and then sat up, sliding out of the back.

* * *

The area wasn't bad in choice but it was exposed, which meant there would be little to protect them against any of the dead. He wasn't fond of that picture but it wasn't good driving around at night, either.

While the Clarks went off in different directions to make sure they were safe, Troy got back in, unlocked the door next to the coolers so that they could easily remove them when ready, and went to demarcate a spot in the dirt for a fire.

Alicia moved cautiously and as silently as possible, shining the flashlight at the trees up ahead to get a look at her surroundings. It wasn't much more than she expected. Just forest. And the sound of their car didn't seem to have attracted any of the dead either. For now, at least.

Ten minutes later, she headed back to the car, carrying some branches that could be used for firewood and spears to cook their food on. She dropped them in a heap on the dirt floor behind the Jeep, perching on the edge of the open flatbed, and reached for the moonshine to rinse her knife.

Keeping Alicia in his field of view, Nick checked the area to the side of her route, and found nothing alarming. He didn't doubt that some dead - one or two or a few - would eventually make their way here from any direction, but now wasn't the time.

Troy had made his way around his share of the ground and was busy with a bonfire.

Nick slid his knife in the sheath on his hip and took a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the glove compartment. He had a few lighters stashed, and for good reason: he had lost his last one in the flooding dam.

Breathing still hurt, but he intended to try. Anything to not be tempted to take a pill or two.

He lit a cigarette, took a shallow drag, wincing subtly as he let the smoke out, surveying the terrain around. It was better lit now that the half-moon was out of clouds.

Troy used both hands to dig a small hole in the ground, made a wide enough circle, and then rose up, scanning the dark and what loomed in the light to be able to find something to bridge it. There was nothing, nothing consistent.

He dug the hole a little deeper, pushing the sand aside, and then went to claim the sticks he'd seen Alicia appear with, assuming she'd got them to help start things.

He settled them in the middle of the hole, stacking them in fours and up, shifting away just long enough to retrieve some dry leaves that he'd stuffed into the middle.

He stood again and walked over to Nick who was smoking. "Mind if I borrow that?" He gestured to Nick's hand in the dark, in search of the lighter to give things a bit of a kick.

Alicia cleansed her knife with the alcohol, hoping it would kill most of the bacteria lingering on the blade from various stabbings, and got to sharpening the sticks. She supposed the fire would take care of whatever nastiness the moonshine had failed to.

Nick's brow was pinched slightly and she couldn't tell whether it was from discomfort or another bout of heavy thoughts. She didn't feel like asking him about it again, not in front of Troy while he was awake.

"We've decided to go to Jake's cabin," she told her brother since he had not actually been conscious when the idea came up. "If we leave in the early morning we might make it there around noon."

Nick handed Troy the lighter and turned to Alicia. "He had a cabin," he said, not exactly questioning, but rather tasting the idea as he smoked, leaned against the side of the car. He looked at Alicia knowingly. "He offered you to get away with him from all that nasty feud, didn't he?"

Troy took the lighter and moved back to his small pit, rearranging the sticks and leaves one last time, and then lit them. They went up immediately, latching onto the surrounding twigs.

It wasn't going to be something that lasted all night but it would get the job done cooking the meat Alicia had found. He returned to the car, lightly nudging her aside while she and her brother spoke, removing first the empty container on top before reaching in to open the second.

He removed the meat inside and sniffed at the packaging now that it had been out in the open for a few hours and without anything to chill it. Blood could do weird shit, and they'd all get sick very quickly.

Deciding that it was okay, Troy grabbed it and the empty container and headed back to the fire.

"Yep," she said, feeling oddly vulnerable again with the topic revisited in Troy's presence. She leaned away to allow the latter to reach around her, practically holding her breath and her knife stilling until he was out of her space again. "Supposed to be some supplies up there. And might not be a bad idea to lay low for a bit. Until the proctors lose our scent."

In the weak, flickering light of the bonfire, Nick could see her face, and he read it there in the way she pinched her lips, in how her brow furrowed briefly like a resonator of bad thoughts. Guilty thoughts.

He shifted closer to her, leaning back as he watched the fire.

"It's always tempting to go into all the what-ifs," he said wistfully. "And I did, many times. What if I went with Luci when she asked me to… Whether any of it would have turned out differently… For me – surely. But it wasn't just me. I didn't wanna stay. But I couldn't leave, either. I wasn't ready to walk away after you all almost died trying to get me out of that pit, and Travis actually did die. And then, I'd walk away from you, again. I wanted to cave to her, but I wasn't ready. When she left, it cut me, deep, but at the same time, there was some weird, morbid kind of relief. That I didn't have to dance around the topic anymore, pretending to still be pondering."

He took a drag and shrugged.

"It's different for you. But the core of the problem is the same: you weren't ready. Period. It's not a fault, and even if it woulda kept him alive, you'd have another reason to regret it." He turned to look at her. "It still hurts. But it's one of those things where the what-if you haven't picked wouldn't have made it better for you. Probably not. You'll let it go, after a while."

He kissed her temple and strolled toward the fire.

Troy flipped the container next to the fire and sat down on top of it, the meat in his lap while he waited for the flames to grow hotter.

With the silence and little to no sound around them, it wasn't hard to make out their conversation, assuming this was something at least one of them was willing to share with him out in the open.

He'd always wondered about Luciana and how Nick felt about her leaving once the dust had settled, never daring to bring it up, since last time he'd confronted Clark with his curiosity in the pantry Nick had been hostile.

Troy guessed he himself had been part of the reason, or at least Otto's people and their values.

He offered the lighter back to Nick once he approached the fire, making a mental note to get another spare in case they were to lose that one, and perhaps a whole stack of them.

Fuel was one thing, finding lighter fuel was another beast entirely.

"So, we're decided then. We're going to the cabin?"

Even if Jake had been Troy's brother, speaking about him in Troy's presence made Alicia feel almost dirty. And so she chose not to partake this time, simply listening as her own brother spoke, explaining his own thoughts about Luciana leaving and how he'd handled it, as well as how she'd handled Jake's desire to go.

And, of course, she'd had those thoughts: the what-ifs. She always did when someone died. What if she had gotten Jake away from the ranch? What if she had chosen to take Travis's seat on the helicopter? What if she had just tried to talk to Andrés one last time instead of reaching for her knife?

But she also knew those thoughts were futile, and rarely brought any good with them.

She leaned into the kiss Nick planted on the side of her head, eyeing him a few seconds after he left her side, and continued to sharpen the sticks which she ultimately handed Troy's way.

"Yeah. We're going."

Nick lit another cigarette once he settled on the ground, keeping any winces off his face.

"You sure you know where it is?" he asked, glancing between them. He didn't assume Troy wasn't aware of that cabin before Alicia brought it up.

"I know where it is. It's a popular lodging area," Troy stated, clutching the meat to his chest, moving to take the sticks from Alicia.

He sat back down, undid the plastic cover and skewered the sausage, wrapping them around in parts, using his free hand to feel for the heat on the flames.

"And I memorized the way there on the map after Jake first showed me."

Just in case he chose to go without her. She didn't know if she would have chased him down. Probably not, if going to the cabin was what he really wanted, and it seemed to have been. She wasn't so sure it was because the ranch had changed so much, or because he felt he was failing everyone under his leadership.

Alicia sheathed her knife and brought her leg up on the car with her, leaning back against its interior.

"Let's hope no one got to the place before us."

"If it's a worthy place, there might be surprises," Nick commented. "I just hope neither of you's gonna go Alamo on them invaders. Good or perfect, it's not worth dying for."

Alicia arched an eyebrow, wondering when her brother had ever seen her "go Alamo" on anything. It wasn't as if her attempted and desired stabbing of Troy the day before was a common occurrence. "Depends on what we find, I guess."

"What is worth dying for?" Troy asked. "You don't think we should take what's ours? What was Jake's?" He removed his hand from the heat, replacing it with a stick of meat he held in place.

"Look around, Troy, you think there's any ownership left in this world? The only thing you own is your body, and the rest is up for the taking by those who come, see and snatch first." Nick took a drag, looking at him. "Dying's easy. At all times. Any reasons. Or none at all. Living's the real challenge. So no, a piece of old world's property's not worth dying for in my book. Is it in yours?"

Stupid question as Troy'd been willing to die for the ranch and its inhabitants only a couple of weeks ago – if that was his purpose. "Yeah. To withstand what's to come you have to be better than the next guy, more ruthless and willing to do and take to survive. You give up what's yours and you're admitting defeat. You have to craft a life for yourself or you have nothing."

Alicia looked between the two of them in the semi-darkness, reaching behind her for her water bottle to allow herself a sip. She thought she knew where she stood on this issue, or had done in the past at the very least. But she also knew her time alone, even if it was hardly any time at all, had changed her perspectives a little. After all, hadn't she chased down the woman who had snatched her food out from under her? Threatened to put a bullet in her head in order to keep it? Would she have, though, if they hadn't come to a peaceful agreement? Alicia didn't think so. She hoped not. But a part of her wasn't sure.

What she knew for certain was that she had become bolder. Stronger. She would hide if it was necessary, but wouldn't automatically back down from a fight.

"Have to be able to live with yourself, though," she commented, taking another sip of water.

Nick looked at each of them in turn, contemplating it, then flicked the cigarette butt into the fire. A small amused smile touched his mouth as he glanced at Troy.

"I don't suppose you gonna wave an ownership paper in front of their noses. Therefore, all the ownership bullshit is just a claim with no proof. It's all about who can kill for it, win it and hold it. I'm not up for another round of bloody holding on to shit."

He held a hand out for the water bottle when Alicia finished, and took a sip.

"I'm sorry, you guys, but I don't think I'll be willing to bite into someone's throat for a house. I'd rather find another one that's empty. Because it's not worth killing for or living with it afterwards."

Troy had killed a lot of people since this thing started, and he'd slept like a baby. He didn't have to remind either of them of that or the fact that he'd do it again. "If there happens to be an empty house and its safe, sure, if not, we'll fine tune and adjust."

He prodded at the meat to check if it was cooking properly, and then relaxed the arm on his knee, rotating it slowly as if he were cooking a s'more.

When the first was done, he handed it over to whoever wanted it, and started on the second.

Alicia was happy to know that even if Nick and Troy had been spending a lot of time together, her brother hadn't come around to seeing things Troy's way. It was comforting.

She pushed off her seat to catch the stick Troy was handing over, and gave it to Nick. He looked like he could do with a hot meal. She grabbed the third stick and impaled a sausage of her own to warm over the fire, saving Troy the hassle of having to cook for all of three.

"Let's not write Jake's cabin off before we even get there. For all we know it could be fine."

Nick still wasn't sure whether he could keep down a meal – he did too long without it and still felt like shit, in most ways – but he placated his sister by accepting the handmade skewer. The smell wasn't unpleasant, so there was hope.

"I was just saying that I don't want to have to battle over it. Because it's not the last hut in the woods in this world, and there are significantly less people around to claim them. There's always something unoccupied to find. No need to go crazy over taken things."

He took a cautious bite and chewed slowly as though it were a baked snake. It wasn't bad. It might work.

Time slowly ticked by as they ate. They hadn't found more sticks and there wasn't enough to keep it going any longer than an hour. Conversation too ran dry. Troy threw the cling wrap and foam plate onto the last of the coal, aware that the smell was horrendous but tossing it out for nature to take care of when it was already sluggish, wouldn't be right, either.

Not that it should matter. The wasted were already everywhere trashing up the place.

Troy dusted his hands on his pants, picked up the container he'd been seated on, and knocked the dust free of it as he carried it to the car.

He removed the cooler and picked up the cushions he'd loosened on the backseat, freeing up the ammo stuffed beneath them to deposit the few in the container. A handgun, six grenades and three boxes of ammo. One partially full. There hadn't been much else he could steal from the pantry after the rescue mission at the ranch and the rest had been used to barter with.

He pushed the cushion back into place, secured it so that it wouldn't move around, and then returned the cooler to its place, removing a bottle of water for himself before stacking the weapons on top.

The two siblings were talking, and for a while, Troy returned to the fire and joined them, amazed how easily the conversation flowed—when you discussed things as senseless as music — with Alicia there, too.

Considering Alicia hadn't eaten much at all those past few days, it was surprising how quickly her stomach said "enough". She managed to finish her sausage, but left it at that, allowing the boys to have seconds, or to save the rest for breakfast if there were leftovers.

Once her belly was full, sleepiness also set in. They sat in front of the bonfire a while, talking about what people their age should be discussing: music and movies and other lighthearted topics that seemed foreign in this new world, but was a welcome distraction nonetheless.

The ease didn't last, and before long, they drew invisible straws about who would be taking the first second and third watch.

Since Nick had slept for most of the drive, he volunteered to take the first shift of keeping guard while Troy and Alicia slept.

Troy insisted on the first but was given the second. He accepted the position, laid out a space for them in the flatbed where they wouldn't have to be curled up on the ground. It was a fitful sleep at first for Alicia, light and disturbed by the sounds of nature, but she eventually fell into blissful darkness. Troy spent most the time in a state of wakefulness, unable to sleep out in the open as much as he tried. It was too exposed and unlike last night – without borders.

It was an uneventful night for Nick, which was good in this setting. There were no surprises. Just one walker appeared in the middle of his watch, and he took him down quietly. The dead was withered, barely dragging his feet. Nick sat for a long while just staring into the fire and trying not to indulge in heavy thoughts. Fire brought memories he didn't welcome, so he just turned his back to it, enjoying the warmth, and stared into the night until it was time to wake Troy.

Sleep took Nick rather quickly, and it brought no vivid dreams. Nothing solid he could remember, and it was a relief. Alicia's voice roused him. He woke in a start, fearing there was something bad happening, like a horde marching through.

"What?" he blurted, blinking the sleep away.


	7. Chapter 7

**RIVER FLOWS NORTH — PART 5**

Morning didn't come quickly, but when it did, it was bright and warm, adding the slight pain thumping behind his eyes, sensation Troy could remember so clearly from two nights ago and his horde incurious. His eyes burnt, too.

He eased out of the flatbed, stretched his legs, and slowly disappeared into the forest to relieve himself before returning to the jeep to check the wheels and water and prepare for the day.

Alicia watched him lazily. He looked a tad befuddled as he climbed out of the Jeep and disappeared into the forest behind her. Nick appeared to still be asleep, so she abandoned the fire to gently rouse him as Troy returned. She rested one hand on her brother's leg, just below his knee where she knew he was ticklish, and squeezed gently.

"Nick? You awake?"

"What?" Nick blurted, blinking the sleep away.

Maybe the leg-squeeze was a bad idea, considering how abruptly he jerked awake.

"It's okay," Alicia murmured, trying to meet his sleepy gaze. "Just time to get ready, is all."

She took a seat on the flatbed beside him, putting the rifle they'd been taking turns with throughout the night down.

Nick let out an abrupt exhale that reverberated with a throe in his chest, and slipped to the ground, afraid to stretch.

"I'll get ready, then," he said, waving a hand at the bushes. "You slept okay?"

"Better than expected." Considering she shared space with Troy for half of that time. "Your ribs okay?" It was the same question she had asked the morning before, but since her side was still sore, it wasn't all that unlikely his was, too. Come to think of it, she should have checked herself in the bathroom mirror back at the restaurant. But it had blown right past her mind.

Nick considered her question, and shrugged. "I guess they're bruised. It hurts. But I suppose it'd be worse if they were broken. Are you feeling okay?"

Alicia smiled a little, glad he was being honest and not just trying to soothe her worries. "Same. I'm sure Troy would have told us if he heard something crack."

He frowned momentarily. What she referred to was probably CPR. And some of it could be that. But Nick felt like something was hurting inside, too, like when he fell off that horse. Maybe something else got bruised, with no telling what and how. And of course, she didn't need to hear the details now. Or ever – if it was going to heal eventually, it was fine.

He smiled. "If he heard it at all. You need to feel your ribs and see if there are any sensitive areas and how bad it is. It's not broken, but still, the bruises gonna need time to get better. Maybe a few more days."

"I will," she promised, getting to her feet to stand before him. "How's my head look? Bigger than usual?" Said in jest, though she was curious to know how the cut had healed. Her head didn't hurt anymore, except those moments she accidentally touched the wound itself, so that seemed promising.

"The bruise only gets worse with time until it fades, you know that," he said, smiling, and leaned closer to see through the bandaids. "The cut looks better, though. Not infected, so all praise the Mexican moonshine. If we could soak our ribs in it, we'd be already healed."

He winked and strolled for the bushes.

Alicia smiled, reassured by his assessment, and watched him head for the line of trees and shrubs Troy had made use of earlier. Like it was their designated pee-spot. Turning her back, she shrugged out of her jacket and lifted the hem of her shirt to give a quick examination of her torso. There were indeed bruises blossoming on her left side and the skin beneath the line of her bra, but it didn't look too bad. Like Nick said, they would fade in time.

Using one of the spare water bottles Troy filled up the jeep's radiator to keep the engine from becoming toast, disposing of the bottle into the clearing. There was nowhere else to get rid of it and to carry it around until they found a place was senseless. That wasn't the world anymore, and he doubted a hippie was going to be ballsy enough to appear from the depth of the woods declaring that Troy was polluting and attempt to fine him. Or worse. It was too late for that, and he suspected, in part, the reason all of this apocalypse bullshit was happening, to begin with.

Troy snapped the hood closed and made a mental note to try and find oil on their next stop at a gas station. If they didn't find any, they were going to be forced to change vehicles, and he was quite fond of the space in this one.

He reclaimed the driver's seat, waiting on the Clark siblings to finish their morning ritual before driving them off and out of the private area Alicia had found the day before to find the interstate again.

When Nick returned from his bush detour, Troy was already in the car ready to drive on. They climbed in and made use of their protein bars as Otto steered back to the Interstate.

The next few hours on the road were relatively quiet. Troy and Nick exchanged words every now and then, but Alicia didn't pay much attention, finding some serenity in the unusual calmness of her own mind. She wanted to take advantage of that before something stirred all her worries again.

When she saw the outline of a gas station up ahead a little later, Alicia leaned forward in her seat so she wouldn't need to scream for the two up front to hear her over the music.

"Should we stop? Check for more fuel?"

"Definitely," Troy stated. That had already been his plan. They needed more water for the radiator and oil was a must – if they could help it.

Only the deeper in or higher north they got, the more hazardous it appeared. Not with people as of yet although he knew they had to be out there somewhere, but with the dead.

They were everywhere, shuffling from hiding as the jeep sailed past at a formerly decent speed limit. Any faster and they'd burn fuel faster and this whole thing would get even more complicated than it already was.

Troy didn't like the idea of risking what they owned when unlike at the ranch there was nothing with which to replace it.

When they reached the gas station, they immediately alerted the fifteen or so dead wandering back and forth amidst a crush of abandoned vehicles. If Troy had to take into account the state of their decomposition, they almost looked fresh. Weeks old instead of months.

He rolled the jeep to a stop a short distance away and considered.

"Are you guys up to it or should we push on?"

"Oh yeah, if you don't mind us stinking up your car."

"Might as well," Alicia reasoned. "Don't know when the next opportunity will be."

For fuel, that was. Not killing.

Nick smiled and stepped out, pulling his knife out. He picked the closest walker, made a quick job of stabbing him in the temple, trying to ignore the pain and how his breath kept catching in his throat at every throe in his chest.

Nick sliced the blade down the corpse's stomach and performed his habitual routine. The other dead were upon him already, but they slowed down, crowded around him, as though they no longer saw him as anything worthy of attention.

No longer hasty - which was a blessing for his pains – Nick pulled the jacket off the corpse, then another one off the next one he stabbed. He tossed them on the hood of the car for later use, then went back into the wandering crowd, taking them down one by one.

Alicia followed her brother outside, unsheathing her knife, and called out to the dead who had gathered around him. A few of them broke away and came for her. She took a few steps back, leading them away from the herd and taking them down whenever they came within her reach.

She didn't cover herself in the putrid blood of the dead as her brother had, so she had to move with a sense of urgency to ensure no one would take a bite out of her as she worked. All in all, it was far from the worst encounter she had experienced.

Unlike with the people Alicia knew who had turned, putting down the corpses wearing strangers' faces no longer brought any guilt to her heart. It had almost become routine. Like pulling weeds from a garden.

Nick had to know Troy wasn't asking because of the stench or because it wasn't a good idea, he was asking because there were a lot of the dead and the siblings were still injured. It had only been twenty-four hours since both had almost died, and Troy wasn't naïve enough to think that either were fully up to speed.

He replicated their action and got out of the car, unsheathing his knife, heading for the crowd Nick had gathered, yanking one away from him onto its back before driving a knife through its skull.

Troy picked off another and played with this one. He drove a knife into the dead's hand, slicing off a couple of fingers as he did, and dodged the clumsy attempts to grab at him, enjoying the dance and dodge of death. After delivering a kick to the wasted's knee and sending him on a one-way ticket to the ground, Troy stomped on the back of his head, repeating it harder a second time until the dead stopped wriggling.

With the three of them working in tandem, they rid themselves of the walking dead quickly.

Troy flicked the blood off the knife, bending to wipe it clean on the corpse, and then returned it to his side, stepping over the body to go in search of the items they needed.

Once the mob was taken care of, Nick went straight to the store. There wasn't much left, but a couple of huge water bottles for a cooler were hidden in a storage room. That was a lucky break.

Alicia briefly followed her brother into the store, but unlike him stayed close to the exit, searching the aisle that would have held motor oils, windscreen wipers, sponges, and the like. It was close to picked clean, but she did find some empty plastic petrol cans she carried back out to Troy in case they were lucky enough that the abandoned vehicles weren't depleted.

Nick checked the restroom. The tap was barely trickling. He washed his face and hands, then returned to his companions, dragging one of the cooler bottles.

"Anyone checked for fuel? There's another one back there, by the way."

"Nice," Alicia flashed Nick a genuinely pleased smile and headed back inside to pick up the large bottle he'd left behind. It was damn heavy. In fact, she was a little embarrassed how quickly her arms tired from hauling the container back outside. She would blame it on her injuries, but in truth, she thought she just lacked the raw strength when her adrenaline wasn't wreaking havoc.

Still, she managed to carry it all the way to the car and slide it into the back next to the one Nick had brought, bracing herself against the flatbed once she finished to regain her composure.

While they'd been busy inside the convenience store, Troy popped the trunks on the vehicles one by one and riffled through them. There was quite a bit of stuff.

Unfortunately, not much in the food department.

Troy found a set of radios. A device in each vehicle as if they'd been communicating with each other, and a solitary charger. Where would they even have used them? Did where they were coming from have electricity?

He rifled through the dashboard, removing the map loosely tucked inside, trying to gauge if there were any markers or pointers to say where they were from.

There was nothing. They were simply moving ghosts.

He folded up the piece of paper again carefully and tucked it into the back of his pants in case they'd need it or got lost, and turned to regard Nick as he appeared with a heavy bottle of water and Alicia with two empty containers.

Definite gold.

"You shoulda let Troy get it," Nick chided Alicia when she slumped against the flatbed almost breathless.

"It's like I did that push-up last year for nothing," Alicia joked, turning to look back at Troy over her shoulder.

Troy eased out of the car, and checked the pump attached, pressing at the trigger and watching the machine to see if the numbers rolled.

Nothing happened.

He removed the pump, repeated what he did, and then clipped it back into place before trying again.

"Empty," he stated, returning to the car again to clean the radio, leaving the second tank to someone else. "I've found some clothes though and these radios that might come in handy. It only looks like one works for now. We'll have to try and find a generator to juice the rest overnight."

They turned when Troy announced there was no gas. It would be a shame to have to abandon their "ship", but this was an Interstate, where gas stations were most likely drained a while ago.

"We need to search smaller roads for fuel," Nick said. "Generators are even rarer species."

Nick was right. They needed to hit the spots where no one had been before them. "That a local map you found?" Alicia asked Troy. She could have sworn she saw him pull one from the glove compartment in one of the abandoned cars.

"Looks like it," he said, removing the map from where he'd tucked it away, handing it over to Alicia. "I figure these people were rolling together, ran out of resources—probably food—since I didn't find anything in any of the cars as of yet." Once she took it, he carried the radios over to the jeep, dumping them onto the backseat, and returned to one of the cars to search through the clothing for a new shirt or even a fresh pair of jeans.

Nick shrugged off his marred jacket and put on one of those he took off the dead. He folded the dirty one inward for a future fight and tossed it on the dashboard. The third one went into the trunk.

"So we taking a smaller road, or it's maybe smarter to actually get to that cabin and then venture out in search of gas? I don't think we'll benefit from looking for that cabin in the woods when it's dark 'cause we wasted time running around and spending even more fuel trying to find some."

Alicia unfolded the map on the flatbed, eyeing the roads she knew they had taken, until she thought she could nail down where they currently were. Just about, anyway.

"Might be best," she agreed with Nick, keeping her eyes on the map.

Troy removed a t-shirt with a Bart Simpson decal, frowning as he eyed the cartoon, half amused and half disgusted that it was the only option.

He missed his fatigues.

He hung it over his forearm, along with a high school sports shirt and a pair of jeans he planned to substitute once the pair he was wearing got stiff with blood or in need of trashing.

"You guys might want to see if there is anything else you want in the fashion department. There's quite a bit. I think these people were coming from their homes," he stated as he joined them to take a look.

Who knew when next they'd get this kind of shopping opportunity?

"Troy say how much gas we've got left?" Keeping one finger on their current location and the other on the area the cabin was supposed to be located, Alicia looked up to meet her brother's gaze. "Do we have enough to make it there?"

Nick waved in Troy's direction as he approached. "You gotta ask him yourself."

Troy tossed the clothes into the back of the jeep on top of the radios, retrieved the empty canisters that Alicia had found, and put them on the flatbed. "Did you guys see any packets of wood being sold inside? How about the oil?"

"Nope," Nick said, "didn't see any wood. Or oil. Or anything. We need some better hidden gas stations."

He heeded the advice and walked over to the cars, rummaged through their clothes selection, picked a couple of shirts, a pair of pants that seemed more or less his size, then tossed it all in the trunk.

"We won't find that on the interstate," Troy reasoned in response to Nick's statement.

Alicia followed in her brother's wake to take a look through the abandoned suitcases and heaps of clothing. Like the boys, she found a few items that would do – a pair of jeans, some tank tops, and a warm sweater. She'd secretly been hoping for some new boots as her current ones had a habit of chafing the back of her heel, but there were none. She paused a moment over a pretty little sundress, however. Obviously not something she could wear in this brutal new world, but it looked a lot like one of her favorite dresses from back home. She'd worn it the first time she and Matt…

She forced herself off memory lane, throwing the dress back onto the pile and returning to the jeep with the items that would actually be of use.

"How far can we make it with our current tank?" Alicia asked. "Shouldn't be more than two or three hours till the cabin, right?"

"We've got thirty miles left in the tank give or take." Troy didn't like those odds and definitely wasn't fond of the idea of abandoning the jeep if it were to come to that. It was sturdy and the closest thing at this very moment in time he could look at as a military vehicle. "I'll see if I can siphon some fuel from the cars."

He unsheathed his knife and headed around the side of the station building in search of a hosepipe, anything they might have used to rinse off the tarmac or wash their cars.

He returned a few minutes later empty-handed. "No luck. Anyone else find anything useful?"

Nick took a gulp of water, then handed him the bottle.

"No. We should get going. If there's any new station – we check. If not, we better get to that cabin and then look if any cars are in the parking lot. We still got out feet, so we'll do some trips."

He screwed the cap back on the bottle when Troy finished and tossed it on the backseat.

Oh, how Alicia missed Google Maps which could probably have told her how many gas stations were between their current location and the intended destination. The map Troy had found was useless in that regards. She folded it gently, anyway, and handed it to Nick, assuming he'd still take the seat up front.

She climbed into the back, helped herself to some water from her own bottle and finished it.

Troy gave the lot a final once-over, hopeful something would jump out at him and provide with the help he wanted, and then climbed in the car.

He wasn't fond of surrender.

* * *

They drove eighteen miles before the car started choking up black smoke and eventually ran dry, forcing Troy to pull over onto the side of the road.

"Fuck," he cursed, thumping the steering wheel with the flat of his hand. He toyed with the keys in the ignition, trying to see if the fuel gauge needle would jump.

It didn't even flicker.

They were still over sixty miles from the cabin.

He heaved a sigh, removed the keys from the ignition, and got out to stretch his legs, to see what lay beyond the trees that outlined the sides of the road like a barricade.

There were no homes, no farms or industrial buildings that he could make out or see in the near vicinity. They were quite literally in the middle of nowhere.

He opened the backdoor and rummaged around for his bag, taking out the few things he didn't feel was needed for this particular trip and he felt he could do without if they couldn't come back for the jeep.

Although that was a serious 'what if' scenario.

They would come back.

"Are you going to be able to walk?" he asked, peering at the two, knowing they'd been quite good otherwise, surprisingly so actually, but that a couple of miles with zero rest could take a strain on the body. "Or maybe you should stay with the car. Protect it."

Nick observed the car, pinching a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He pondered their chances. They didn't look good.

"Well, the problem is, we piled too much stuff into that car, and now Troy here is gonna cry if we leave it. This is why I hate to collect stuff. Since we don't know about the cabin, we shouldn't discard the car. So maybe I should go find another gas station or a ride. It can't be too hard. Maybe we're up for a lucky break."

"Don't act like we don't need this stuff to survive," Troy chided. "Food, water, guns, security. I know you like to pretend none of that is a necessity and walk through life caked in shit but there are other options. Besides, you'll thank me and your sister when you have toilet paper to wipe your ass the next time you get the runs."

Nick smirked, took a drag, exhaled smoke, and reached into the backseat for the half-full bottle of water.

"You might wanna check in another direction. It's an Interstate, there should be cars."

What Alicia was hearing was that they were splitting up, and though she didn't particularly like it, she also trusted Nick to take care of himself. He had a habit of getting himself into trouble, but also the uncanny ability to get out of it.

"So I take it I stay?" she said, climbing out as well, hands on her hips as she threw a look at her surroundings.

"Just stay here, watch the car, get some rest and I'll be back before you can miss me," Troy said.

He glanced between the two as if to make it clear and to let them choose what do to with themselves, and headed to the back of the jeep to grab an empty container for fuel.

"So," he said once he'd gotten everything he needed. "What are you doin'?"

Nick stomped on the cigarette butt he had discarded and scoffed, amused and annoyed at the same time.

"I dunno what WE are doing, but I am going to scout the area. I'm not babysitting your car."

He put on the bloody jacket and closed the passenger door.

"We can't cover sixty miles to that cabin, but we can do some to find what we need."

He gave Troy a parting smile as he started away, then thought of something and looked back over his shoulder, stopping.

"You sure just one radio works? Seems like we could use those."

"Sure. I checked them," Troy said, fighting the urge to argue with him, to tell him that, of the three of them, he was the last person needed to be out in the open and exposed.

Nick was hurt – he had to act like it. If something happened he'd be of no use to anyone, and worse off – dead.

As much as Alicia enjoyed Nick giving Troy a hard time, she didn't want it if the cost was her brother's wellbeing. But Nick was stubborn, and trying to stop him from doing something when he'd set his mind to it would be useless. He'd always been that way. Even when they were kids.

"An hour!" she called in Nick's direction. "Be back or I do something stupid!"

Troy kept himself glued in place and turned away once Nick started walking again, to face Alicia.

"Was there anything distinct on the map that you saw to show what was out here? More roads deeper in, maybe?"

She considered Troy's question and rounded the car, leaning into the passenger seat to grab the map Nick had abandoned. Placing it on the hood, she unfolded it to make closer examinations.

"I don't recall. But Jake did tell me he used to stop for food at a truck stop a few hours before the cabin." There had been something about one of the waitresses there being 'insanely hot', and Jake's friends had always insisted they stop by whenever they were in the area. Alicia was sure Jake hadn't minded at all, but he'd kept that information to himself. "So there might be something up ahead."

* * *

Since the radios were no good, Nick kept on walking, cracking a smile at Alicia's threat. It was cute, but in reality, stupid wasn't her weapon of choice. Ever.

It wasn't such a great idea to be hiking with his chest problems, but he still tried to establish some pace that made the whole job easier. It wasn't too hot, and the sun was somewhat behind his back, so nature was helping. He took a sip of water after a while, then looked back, and didn't see the car, anymore. There was barely anything at all around, like he suddenly found himself on a planet where no humans ever lived.

After a mile or two, there was something on the horizon resembling a house. He picked up his pace some, but not to the extent of collapsing a few yards short of his target. It was a small gas station and a store with three infected in it. He took them down and refreshed his disguise. The store was almost empty. It was ridiculous. In the gas pumps, however, there seemed to be something left. Maybe a canister or two – if he had canisters.

Nick searched the place and found no gas canisters, but two empty water ones. They had to do. The two cars parked at the store were cleaned out same as the store.

He took the empty plastic containers out, went for the pumps, then stopped in his tracks. There was something to the side of the road ahead. At first, he thought it was a deer, but as he looked longer, he recognized a horse. He dropped the containers on the ground, and stared at the animal in confusion. It looked so damn lonely and scared. It watched him with its ears perked. Perhaps it had already learned that not all of what seemed human acted it, anymore. It wasn't running away, however, which gave Nick a silly idea that it hoped he wasn't one of those bad ones.

He glanced back at the two cars, pondered fueling one of them, pondered whether they could even start – there was no telling if their batteries worked. Then he went past the pumps and toward the prairie framing the Interstate. The horse jerked as if to run, but only made a few hurried steps back, still watching him, ears perked. Nick still looked like shit and smelled like someone who would attack. He wasn't sure the animal could see him all that well, but if he tried to approach, it would flee.

Indulging a weird hunch, Nick clicked his tongue once, twice. The horse's ears flicked, it shifted on its legs. He did again, slowly creeping toward it. It was scared, all right, and it fell a few steps back a few times, but eventually, Nick wiped his hand on his shirt where it was more or less clean of blood, and held it out. The horse pondered, then let him put his hand on its nose. He stroked, whispering 'It's okay', and it relaxed a little. It was a steed, and he seemed to be tired of fright.

The steed wore a halter on his head, which was lucky. Nick led him back to the gas station, surveying the area for a farmhouse or something where this horse might have come from. There was nothing but the shrubs under the sun. Having no choice, Nick risked leaving the stallion on the parking lot and went inside the store, looking back and expecting the horse to run. The stallion tried to follow Nick, which made Clark's chest contract with sympathy. The animal must be happy to see someone who didn't try to eat him. This new world was a bad place for a domesticated horse.

Nick searched the three bodies and pulled a belt from one of them. He slipped it through the halter, locked into a loop and put an arm through it, leading his new buddy with him to the pumps. He filled the plastic canisters, then shrugged off his jacket, binding the canisters to it by the sleeves. He hauled it onto the horse. The horse didn't seem to mind.

So they started their walk back.

* * *

Nick walked ahead of Troy, limping subtly as if he was continually compensating for some pain he refused to acknowledge, lost in his own world. Troy assumed that he'd drift off into the trees and hover in a space close enough to help his sister if anything was to go wrong, but he didn't.

He kept going.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Troy decided that it was stupid to be walking in the same direction—especially if they weren't together—and veered off the interstate into the thicket of trees.

For a time, it was nothing but him, nature, and a few dead.

He took care of them on principle, harboring the same logic that he used to in the past that they might make their way to Alicia, toward the car and stir trouble that she might not be inclined for or see coming.

Who knew if she was already taking care of her own?

He checked their pockets for any trinkets, and when he found none, he moved on. He'd been walking for an hour and a half when he came upon what he knew was a man-made pond meant to water cattle. The lazy man's trough.

He removed his bag, tossed it onto the grass out of the way of getting wet, and crouched beside it, splashing his face, cooling off as much as he could before returning to claim a bottle of water. Troy took a deep sip to silence the stirrings of hunger, tempted to strip and float for a while, aware that despite the touch of heat, there wasn't time for that and he had to keep walking.

There was only a couple of hours left of sunlight and if he didn't make it back in time, he didn't doubt that Alicia would abandon him. Nick he assumed would be hesitant at first if he made it back before Troy with fuel, but then he'd ultimately do what was best for her. She was his family. His blood. And that prioritized everything else. Troy got it, too, as his family had had the same kind of staple in the past. Like he did now. A clean transference.

Troy approached the small holding, studying the cattle grazing around the house as if this simple stretch of land was untouched by the ugliness of the outside world. Even the fencing was intact. At least if you discounted the dead that had been shredded in the barbed wire and sat within the loops like a bear caught in a trap. They were mangled, flesh hanging off their faces in strips, one's eye caught on one of the razors like skewered olive.

They were still moving. He drove his knife into their skulls.

He approached the gate, attempted to undo the intricate latch and found it to be locked from the inside. He studied the small house. It appeared abandoned, dead, and then a lick of silver appeared in the window, reflected by the sun before a bullet hit the post a couple inches from Troy's arm.

He ducked and dropped to the ground, crawling away as another shot rang out, quickly finding a place where he could take cover and arm himself with his handgun.

* * *

Alicia grabbed the rifle from the back of the jeep as Troy disappeared down the road, and swung the strap onto her shoulder, proceeding to close all the doors. If anyone were to come by and on the off-chance didn't shoot her on sight, they didn't need to advertise their supplies. Food and water could turn even the gentlest souls into beasts these days.

She returned to the hood of the car, eyeing the map, trying to compare the winding roads with the ones Jake had shown her on his map back at the ranch. This one appeared to be older, and she could have sworn Jake's version had more markers, more newly developed roads. Not that it mattered much now.

Every sound had her looking up, casting surveying looks up and down the road to ensure no vehicles were approaching, and that none of the walking dead snuck up on her. It was quiet, but she felt more nervous now than when she had been guarding her own supplies when she was alone. Because if she were to fail in her mission, it wouldn't just be her life affected. It could mean potential death for Nick and Troy, too.

Time passed painfully slow. Alicia changed into her 'new' jeans and tank top, packing her old clothes away in the hopes she might eventually be able to wash them.

When more than an hour had gone, she began to feel a slight sense of fear. She hadn't expected either of them to be back on the dot, but her mind still reeled with the various possibilities of scenarios that could have befallen the two. None of them pleasant. And how long would she allow herself to wait before she went in search of them? Two hours? More? She wasn't sure she'd be able to stand it for that long.

In the end, she got in on the driver's side, just because standing was making her feet ache more than they had to. She rested her head against the steering wheel until she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Movement. She turned to look and caught sight of her brother approaching… with a horse in tow.

_What the hell?_

Alicia hesitated all but a moment before she got out again, moving in front of the jeep to watch Nick with wide eyes.

"We are not killing a horse for food!"

It was the first horrific thought that came to mind.

Nick chortled, staring at Alicia with amused disbelief for a speechless moment.

"If you think it's why I brought him with me, I should be insulted, Lisha."

He displayed an exaggerated scowl and pulled the canisters bound by his jacket off the horse's back, wincing.

"We got some gas. And I couldn't drag it on me. The horse was lonely, so he tagged along."

Alicia moved forward to help Nick with his load, relief that he had found the fuel they needed temporarily overridden by the other surprise he had brought with him.

"Where did you find him? Is he hurt?"

"He seems fine," Nick replied, unscrewing the canister's cap, and lifted it to pour into the tank. "Scared shitless, but fine."

Alicia kept hold of the horse while Nick moved back to the car, stroking him carefully, almost reverently. She missed horses. Missed riding them, grooming them, even just seeing them.

"Poor thing. Had his whole world turned upside down."

"Must be from a farm or a ranch somewhere, or maybe a horseback riding base, but I didn't see anything like that around. He was just wandering aimlessly, scared of all that moves."

Nick put down the empty canister and reached for another.

"I hope we don't have to go search for Troy. How long has he been gone?"

"He left just after you did," she said absentmindedly, carefully undoing a tangle in the horse's mane and adding as an afterthought: "We should send the horse on his way before Troy comes back."

Nick smiled to himself, pouring the last of the gas in, then put the canister down and approached the horse. He undid the belt, pulled it from the halter on his muzzle, then patted his neck and leaned into him to push him away. The horse fell back a few steps, but then returned back closer to them like a loyal dog.

Nick spread his arms briefly as if saying There you go. "He won't agree with that."

"There's no guarantee Troy won't consider him our next meal. He's a survivalist farmer and a sociopath to boot. Did you hear the bunny story?"

Jake had told Alicia one night, and the thought of it still made her blood boil.

* * *

Troy stayed low to the ground and watched for movement from the small holding, expecting whoever it was to show face.

They never did.

Smart.

There was no way to tell who it was or how many. He checked the ammo on his handgun and seriously considered fighting it out. If they were holed up, it meant there was something to protect.

But what? If it was just Troy, his boys, he'd have suggested they stormed the palace and checked. He was with a different crew now, a different set of people that wouldn't appreciate that kind of sentiment and already said as much.

He cast a final glance at the place, and narrowly started away, being careful to guard his back. He hadn't seen anything else out there, and if he went any deeper, he wouldn't make it back in time. Troy decided to head back empty-handed.

* * *

Nick smirked grimly and took a gulp of water.

"Yeah, I have. But a bunny's not a horse. I'm not saying we should keep it, but... Well, I shouldn't have brought it, but I didn't wanna bother with another car. When he didn't run away from me, I went with it."

An idea came to him, making him look at her cunningly. He held the belt out to her.

"If you feel okay for it, you two can go see if Troy's coming. I know you want to."

A smile bloomed on her face, subtle at first, then cracked in a full-blown grin. He knew her well.

Alicia shifted the rifle to lay across her back, taking the belt from Nick to fasten it on the horse's bridle. She led the horse off the road so they could walk along the grassy field instead of the hard asphalt. It would be better for his hooves.

The animal didn't seem to be starving despite the fact he obviously no longer had anyone to take care of him. There was plenty of grass and weeds this time of year, and he clearly had not had much trouble finding water, either. Perhaps there were some streams around here? Ponds?

"Give me a leg up?"

Nick went after her and helped her up. A wave of pain traveled through him, stealing his breath for a long moment.

Seeing Alicia's face light up as she sat on the horse made him smile. She looked like a kid who hadn't received any Christmas gifts for years and suddenly got one.

"Just please be careful," he pleaded. "There was no saddle where I found him."

Alicia looked at the horse's neck before her, stroking it. He didn't seem to mind a rider, and that was good.

"What do I do? Leave him in the forest or bring him back here?" She didn't like either of the options, but it wasn't as if they had many others. They couldn't take him with.

"Good luck leaving him in the forest, but I don't think you can outrun him. Just find Troy if you can and tell him we should go asap."

She nodded and was about to urge the horse onwards, but hesitated.

"Please don't get in any trouble while I'm gone," she begged, eyeing her big brother with some doubt. "Arm yourself at least?"

She knew he probably wouldn't, but she had to try anyway. She squeezed the horse's sides gently with her legs, and he started walking. It felt weird at first. It had been quite some time since she was last on a horse. But she soon fell back into familiar habits, and before they reached the line of trees she had seen Troy venture off into earlier, they were off in a trot.

She swept branches aside as the horse slowed and maneuvered his way into the forest, careful to not let them catch on her rifle as they passed. It was easier inside, more space to roam and fewer pine needles.

Troy had been gone for quite some time and she didn't plan on going as deep as he probably had. If she knew herself well enough, that would only lead to her losing her way. But Alicia kept a wary eye out for him while enjoying the tranquility of the forest and the gentle rise and fall of the horse's shoulders beneath her.

* * *

Being lost or even close to it wasn't the norm for Troy, and nor was it now, so when after forty minutes of walking the immediate sound of rustling hit him, he took to hiding. Suspecting that whoever had been firing at him from the house might have maneuvered around him. The shooter did know the terrain better than Troy, and the dead had an individual shuffle that was predominantly clumsy.

This was different. Steady and acquainted.

A horse.

Troy removed the handgun from where he'd tucked it against his side and pressed his back against a large tree, using it as cover, listening to see how many people there might be before emerging behind them. Although he was familiar with her front, Troy was even more so with her back – despite the change in clothes.

"Alicia?" he asked, loud enough to be heard above the animal's hoofs, the gun pointed at her back for the sole purpose of confirmation and threat if he happened to be wrong.

His voice startled her. Alicia pulled on the horse's makeshift reins to stop him and looked over her shoulder to see Troy on the path behind her, gun raised.

She urged the horse to turn, and he followed her directions without hesitation.

"One and only," she said, somewhat uneased by his gun and choosing not to move closer until he lowered it. "You okay?"

Troy lowered the gun soon after she'd turned to face him and snapped the safety back on. "Just paranoid. There's a small holding a few miles from here and its owner isn't the welcoming type."

His warning had her survey their surroundings with more caution than before, but they seemed to be alone. On the other hand, she hadn't noticed Troy until he sprung out on her, either. She needed to be more careful in the future.

He returned the gun to the side of his hip and walked toward her, extending a hand toward the animal she was riding, slowly approaching him as not to spook him.

"Where'd you find a horse?"

"Nick found him. Used him to haul the fuel back to the car. Should be more than enough to make it the cabin now."

She hesitated a moment before preparing to get off the horse's back.

"Need a break from the walking?"

She didn't truly care much about his comfort, per se, but she wasn't stupid. Right now Troy was the strongest of their group, and though she hated to admit it, she and Nick had a better chance at survival with him by their side than alone.

Troy touched a hand to the horse's muzzle, stilling once he drew back, hesitant, letting him come forth again. It took the animal a moment, but he eventually did.

"I'm okay," Troy stated, surprised by her offer but appreciative. "Everything okay at the car or were you just concerned something had happened to me?"

Alicia stilled again when he declined her offer before finally urging the horse forth again. He started walking beside them.

"Nick was worried," she said. "I wanted a ride."

Troy smiled slightly, appeased that he was worried. When was the last time someone in the Otto family had verbalized that to his face? Troy thought, at times Jeremiah and Jake prayed he wouldn't come back so that their problems or those assumed difficulties that he brought could be buried.

"Well, don't let me keep you. It's not every day we get to indulge," he gestured ahead, subtly suggesting that she run back or go at a speed that wasn't an idle trot. "Go for it. I'll meet you back at the car."

Alicia considered that a moment, searching her instincts for whether or not she had some obligation to stay with him. It didn't feel like she did.

"Okay," she said, taking off at a light trot. She never let the steed go into a gallop, however, a voice in the back of her mind chiding her for even riding the horse in the first place. As soon as they left, he'd be completely unprotected again and needed all the strength and energy he could get. With that in mind, she slid off his back just before reaching the edge of the forest, saving herself the trouble of combating the upper branches. She led him out, and once they were at the field and she could see the Jeep in the distance, she undid Nick's belt from the halter, allowing the horse to go on his way.

By the time she made it back to Nick, the animal was still close on her heel. It was going to be tough leaving him.

Nick was leaning against the car, smoking, when Alicia appeared in the distance. She was walking, and it appeared she had the belt dangling in her hand. The horse was behind her, keeping up like a good dog. It made him laugh, but there was also pity for the poor animal. Maybe he shouldn't have approached it, but there was no way to tell if that was worse or better. He just did what he did.

"I take it you didn't find Troy?" he called when she was in the hearing distance.

"He's coming," she called back, waiting until they were close before speaking further. "He shouldn't be long."

She pulled the rifle-strap over her head and moved to put the gun back in Troy's arsenal.

Nick was smoking like clean air offended him, and though Alicia didn't comment, it got her thinking. Was he that worried about Troy? Or was it to soothe something else? Hunger? Pain? All of the above? She doubted she'd get a sincere answer if she were to ask. Despite Nick having promised to keep her in the loop from now on, she knew her brother. He would try and shield her from the details he didn't deem important enough to worry her.

Troy reached the jeep twenty minutes later, finishing off his water bottle as he approached the two, studying the horse who'd been loitering close by as if he belonged.

"There's no possible way we can keep him."

Nick chuckled at his comment and stomped on the cigarette butt.

"Well, he seems to be willing to be kept," he said, smirking, and walked around for the passenger's door. "He just doesn't wanna be alone, anymore. He's scared. And it's not fair in the slightest. The world sucks these days, more so for those who don't understand."

Troy's return shifted Alicia's attention back on the horse. He was grazing peacefully on the side of the road, and though she was tempted to move in for one last cuddle, she didn't. It'd only make things harder for both of them.

"It does suck," she agreed somberly and made for the backseat.

Another time or maybe even in the past Troy'd have found as much amusement in what the two siblings made of the horse's antics, but not now. He couldn't. If anything, the creature would inevitably die. Be it from starvation or because a walker overpowered it. Troy could kill it and save it from future misery, but he doubted either of his friends would care for that. He shrugged off the bag and tossed it in the back, putting the empty container he'd been carrying with him in its place on the flatbed.

"You've already added the fuel?" he asked as he approached the driver's side.

"Yeah. There was a bit more left in the pump, but I only found two canisters and one horse, so we gotta stop by that next gas station and get the rest."

Nick looked at the horse, feeling guilty. As if there was any more guilt he would want to carry around.

"What wouldn't I give for one of those horse transporters. Damn shame. He'll die on his own. Especially after reinstalling some trust in humans. He'll take an infected for one."

Alicia briefly followed Nick's gaze, chewing on her bottom lip. "Even if we could take him with us there'd come a time when we'd be forced to leave him behind," she said before closing the door on her side. Saying the truth didn't make any of this feel any better, though.

Troy watched the siblings with mixed feelings. They debated the horse's existence as if it were an option, as if they had a choice in the matter. It took a lot to keep a horse fed and watered, and they could barely keep themselves going – even if they did have a bit more than they originally did. They were only just starting out, and the horse might be the incentive needed to get Nick to agree to build a fortress.

"How far is the gas station from here?"

Nick considered. "About thirty-forty minutes walk. Why? It's right on our way, can't miss it."

"I'll take the horse," Troy said. "That's where you found him, right? His home might be around there. He'll stand a better chance."

Troy showing uncharacteristic signs of kindness? Alicia was intrigued. And suspicious.

He turned back to the horse before Nick could argue or debate, moving to reacquaint himself with the friendly creature. Once he was sure the animal was approachable, Troy used the wheel of the jeep as a ladder and eased himself onto his back, fingers lacing through the mane, heels tapping at the flanks to nudge him into motion ahead of them.

"There was nothing around there," Nick said, and started around the car for the driver's door. "I think he came from some other place, which could be anywhere. Even Jake's cabin – if there was a horseback riding base for tourists. Was there?"

Alicia climbed into the front passenger seat and propped her feet up on the dashboard, watching the horse and Troy's retreating forms. "No idea. Jake didn't mention anything about it, nor did the map."

Though maps rarely did, unless they were made special for tourist attractions.

"We'll find out the usual way, then," Nick said, starting the Jeep, and closed the door. They pulled from the curb and accelerated after Troy. Nick didn't keep the high speed, however, and let the car ride slower in case he had missed anything worthy on either side of the Interstate.

They caught up with Otto in fifteen minutes and parked at one of the pumps.

Troy didn't look back as he pulled ahead, giving another gentle kick to the horse's side, spurring him faster until he went from trot to full-fledged gallop.

The ride wasn't smooth but was fun, nonetheless, and by the time Troy found the gas station and got off the horse it felt as though his balls had been crushed, and trying to walk was a bit of an issue.

"Jesus," he cursed, pressing a hand to his groin, massaging, convinced that if he was to keep that up he'd have to find a saddle for the thing or something else that he could use to make it.

"Fill it up?" Nick asked Alicia before stepping out of the car. He took the key with him as he did and pushed it into Troy's hand when he walked past him. "Gotta check the store again in case I missed something. I coulda – didn't have enough hands or horses, anyway."

"'Kay." She got out and flipped the lid to the tank open.

Troy slid his hand from his crotch and took the car keys as Nick coaxed them into his open hand, following him with his eyes as he headed for the store again.

One look at Troy shuffling beside the horse told Alicia he was in some awkward pain, and she tried not to smile at that, busying herself with the pump to make sure they got what remained of the fuel here. It was enough to fill the tank. She wasn't sure how much more the pump contained, so she briefly abandoned it to fetch one of the petrol cans in the back of the car.

It didn't yield any fantastic results, not even filling a fourth of the can, but she screwed the cap back on and packed it anyway.

The three infected Nick had killed were still there. He checked them again and took another's belt. There was nothing significant at the cash register. Just a box of bubble gum, some mint sweets, a couple of cigarettes blocks and useless money.

Troy headed to the car to dump the weapons out of the container onto the Jeep's floor, and filled it with water from one of the large bottles Nick had found earlier.

Not a lot, but enough.

He carried it over to the horse and set it down before him, moving to prop himself against the bumper. The horse didn't go to it at once, cautious, and then eventually surrendered, suckling at it hungrily.

Once more Alicia found herself surprised by Troy's kind treatment of the animal, and for some reason, it shook her more than she would have liked. It was easier to hate someone when they were evil through and through, when their every action was villainous. It became increasingly harder to hold onto the disgust she had felt towards this man yesterday. And that, in turn, pissed her off. She didn't want to let go of her anger. Troy did not deserve her forgiveness nor trust.

Nick dropped his meager findings in the trunk and observed them. "So what, we done here?"

Alicia tore her gaze off the man and horse and shut the back door to the Jeep, turning to her brother. "Pumps are empty, so I guess so."

When the horse had had his fill, Troy popped the hood on the jeep, picked up the container and emptied what he could of what remained into the radiator. Without a funnel, the task wasn't easy, but he managed not to waste too much. He flipped it over in a feeble attempt to dry it out, and slipped the weapons back into it before replacing it on its designated space on the cooler.

"What are we doing with our shadow?" he asked, assuming they'd have thought on the subject a bit longer and decided whether or not they planned to let him go or if Troy should simply shoot him and save him the misery of being eaten alive.

Nick didn't know what to tell him. He looked at the horse, pondering. The steed would meet his doom sooner or later, and it would be worse than if they put him down. But Nick knew if he had to do or watch it done, something in him would die. He wasn't prepared for such. He had no parts of his remaining soul to spare.

"Well, either we bind him to the car by whatever rope we can find anywhere or we leave him here, which would get him killed in a horrible way, or one of us rides him to Jake's cabin. Which won't be me."

Alicia braced one hand on the side of the car, squinting slightly against the sunlight. She didn't like any of their options, but the kindest one to the horse itself would be to take him with, preferably by riding there.

"What will we do with him when we get to the cabin?" she asked. "And what will we do with him when we leave?"

Presumably, they would leave at some point. She didn't foresee them holing up at Jake's cabin for years to come. And just as she worried what would happen to the horse if they left it behind, she worried about how much more pain her heart could take when he would inevitably die in front of them, either by their hand or the dead's.

She lowered her head slightly, thoughtful.

"If anyone's going to ride him for that distance it should be me," she said eventually, murmuring as an afterthought: "Seeing as I am the only one here not capable of getting testicular torsion."

She'd only heard about such a case once before during her volunteer days at the hospital, and one quick peek around the curtain as she had fetched the patient something to drink had been more than enough for her. She didn't need to see that again.

Troy's hand inadvertently went to his nut sack, rubbing, renewing the ache that had temporarily gone dormant. If they could they'd shrivel up and die at the thought of getting back on that horse without a saddle, and as much as he enjoyed it – he wasn't prepared to abuse them any more than he already had.

"Let's just get to the cabin first before we start worrying about what to do with him when we leave. We don't know what's going on out there. What we do know is ahead of us and on the road. You're going to have to be careful. He isn't a tank. Take it easy, take it slow and if anything looks even remotely like it's dangerous – we'll stop and take care of it. Got it?"

All he needed was for her to fall on the tarmac and her head to be cracked open like a melon. That would be a whole new drama and medical issue Troy doubted mouth-to-mouth would be able to solve.

He removed the keys from his pocket and climbed into the driver's seat, rolling down the window and turning on the ignition, waiting for them to prepare and join.

"He's right, Alicia," Nick said, "you don't play hero and don't ride into any dead. Keep off the road, we'll drive behind you to see you at all times. If there's any danger, we'll take care of it. And your priority's to stay alive and well. And careful with the groundhogs' holes. Horses break their legs, too." He looked at Troy. "I'll drive, you just… keep your legs up. Keep the pressure off, cowboy. But help her on the horse first."

Alicia pursed her lips, tried her best not to narrow her eyes at the two men who suddenly acted as if she didn't know the first thing about horses or this new world in general. Typical older sibling behavior. A comment she kept to herself as she reluctantly allowed Troy to give her a leg up and onto the horse.

As soon as Otto handed him the key, he slipped behind the wheel and started the car. They waited for Alicia to start out, and followed, adjusting the speed as she did to keep her ahead of them and in the view at all times.

Like before, the animal didn't seem to mind Alicia riding him, and didn't hesitate to follow her instructions. They started slowly until they could get off the asphalt and onto the road-adjacent fields. She urged the steed into a gallop, and for a while, that was their pace.

When he eventually slowed on his own accord, she let him do so, allowing him to walk for the next few minutes before he willingly set off in a trot again.

All the while, she could see the jeep out of the corner of her vision, and despite her earlier annoyance, felt safe in the knowledge her brother and Troy were keeping an eye out for her.

Troy made himself at home in the passenger seat and made a point of lifting his feet up onto the dashboard, offering his friend a brief smirk before focusing on the road ahead. They had fuel and a couple hours to kill before they reached their destination. Keeping the sound manageable, he turned on the radio and rolled through the channels, seeking music or a broadcast as he'd done when they were in Mexico.

There was nothing, not even anyone calling for help.

He guessed the panic was over and everyone was either fighting or surviving.

"How's the pain?" Troy asked, flicking off the radio, focusing on Nick as he steadily drove.

Nick shrugged. "Manageable. There's nothing you can do with bruised ribs but wait it out." He gave Troy a cunning smirk. "How's yours?"

"My balls, you mean? I'll probably never be able to procreate. But fine otherwise. Nothing time won't heal."

"Procreation's not on top of the list these days, so no pressure."

Nick watched Alicia for a while, thinking about the horse. He was almost regretting baiting it, but knew he couldn't very well walk away from an animal in distress. It was the hardest thing to do. Like walking away from a scared child.

"This horse's gonna help us search the area for more fuel once we're at Jake's."

"Is he?" Toy studied his friend, a lazy smile playing upon his lips with interest. "Before we get into that, don't you think we should consider finding it food first? We've got water covered for now."

"A horse will always find some grass," Nick reasoned. "He's not starved, he's been doing okay. And we're not heading for the desert, so he'll be fine there, too. Or you disagree, farm boy?"

"I am," Troy mused, offering up a smile since Nick had to know that considering he'd called Otto 'farm boy'. Troy did more than just kill the dead, and had been doing for a long time before the world even began to crumble at the seams. "The dead contaminate the earth. It ruins the soil and anything that grows in it. Who knows what that shit is doing to his system? If we can we should at least find him an alternative to mix it up with." Troy gave a slight shrug, fixing his eyes on the road ahead where she rode, unimpeded and at an almost graceful pace.

"I think you're panicking too early," Nick chortled. "It's not the first apocalypse for our Earth, nor the last. It regulates itself and all things that live on it. So have a little faith in your planet. Besides, people don't turn into nuclear waste when they die. The soil will be fine. Even better. The circle of life and death is what keeps it spinning."

Troy studied Nick with interest. He knew Clark was poetic of sorts, but Troy had never seen him as one of those naturalist hippies that believed faith would get them through the worst of times.

"It's not panic, it's called being prepared. We don't know what they turn into." A large portion of his scientific murders. All they knew for sure was that every one of them would eventually become one of those things until the next living person killed them for a final time or nature wiped them out. "We've seen what a bite can do, ingesting it is the same principle."

Troy'd never had the opportunity to test it on animals or to even see if they could get sick. But if this was, in fact, a genetic strain and created by nature — in holy they should trust — it would only be a matter of time.

"It's not about what it is, but what we can do about it," Nick said. "It's not a dog or a cat, and beyond that, I'm not an expert on how to tend to a horse. He'll have to do what he did before, find food as he did before. We can try to protect him from the dead, but if I see any farm on our way, I'd hand him over. Your farm couldn't be the last one in the world. I hope we find another one that could take a horse in."

"So, that's the plan, we adopt him until we can hand him over to someone else with a bit of space and the ability to look after him?" Troy thought back to the smallholding and the person who'd shot at him. There were some cattle there, but overall the space would have been ideal. Maybe later he could take the steed there.

"It's not a solid plan. Just an idea. I don't see how we can keep him in the long run, but shooting him is not an option. He doesn't deserve this shit. He went through as much and tried to survive. It's unfair to take it from him. I don't want Alicia to have it stuck in her brain forever. She has enough shit in there after your horde stunt. She hasn't even started to heal it."

"Lucky you found him then. Horses are therapeutic." Unsure if that was still true, only remembering what documentaries Troy'd seen before television and YouTube crashed stated. "You think she'll forgive me for that?"

Nick considered sugarcoating, then thought against it. "I don't think she can forgive something like that. But she can learn to live with it."

"Is that what you're doing? Living with it? Or do you in part feel responsible for it?" Not that Troy saw it that way. The youngest Otto blamed the entire takeover on Madison and Madison alone.

"I was there with you, Troy. I don't take the horde on me - that's all on you. But Jake's death is partially my fault. I lied for you to everybody, and then I did it again to Daniel's face, which means I shared your crime. I don't forgive you because it's not my place to forgive anything like that. I know why you did it, and I know how it came to it. And it's not fully your fault. It's the outcome of many faults. So you and I have to live with it because we couldn't change shit."

He said it as if he expected Troy to feel some sort of guilt or onus for what he'd done, when in reality, Troy didn't live with anything other than the loss of his home. And Jake.

"And what would you say if I was to tell you I had no regrets about it?"

He already knew Troy'd do it all again if it came down to it and he had to relive history.

Nick wasn't surprised. He heard it before – his mother was going to kill Troy for it.

Nick turned to regard him. "What do you want me to say, Troy? Call you a murderer? A psychopath? Swing a hammer at you?"

"That's what your mother tried to do, what your sister would have done if given the chance and what Jake was ready to do before you interfered. All I'm trying to figure out is why — with your views of good and bad — you're lenient with me. Is it that easy to bury it or do you have another angle?"

Nick heaved a painful sigh, grimacing subtly. The questions weren't misplaced. But Nick wasn't sure he himself had the answers. He tried to find them for Alicia and felt like he failed to. There was nothing set in stone, nothing solid and dense among the ideas of why he behaved the way he did with Troy.

"I killed a few people, but it never came easy," he said. "I'm not a killer. Taking lives sickens me, it's killing me in more ways than those I kill. There's no burying it, forgetting it, smoothening it anyhow to make it look better. There's no right excuse to kill anyone. And as much as I hated you when we came to the ranch, I still wouldn't kill you. I don't believe I have the right or place to judge you for things you've done and sentence you to death. I don't wanna  _be it_. Because then there's no point. There's no point in survival when you're dead inside."

Troy nodded. It was a fair answer and confirmed what he knew about Nick, what he understood even more after eavesdropping on their conversation, but it didn't say why Nick continued to want to be with him – to travel with him. Nick didn't have to play judge or jury and the ranch was ancient history.

Was it all as simply explained as friendship? Could it be?

It didn't seem likely from what Troy knew, and yet there was proof in the pudding.

"Your sister seems to be a fairly decent rider. Did she do much of it before the world went to hell?"

"She took lessons as a kid. She always loved riding. What about you? Only-with-saddle kind of guy, are you?"

"I've never needed to be any other guy. Until today. It's not as easy or pleasant as it looks in the movies." Troy reached down and patted his crotch, inspecting the healing progress on the damage. It wasn't as tender as it was before. "What about you? How'd you get into it?"

"Well, that girl out there is my sister, so it was a package deal. I got a couple of lessons, the rest the horses taught me by darting into a gallop when I didn't expect or by dropping me down. I'm an amateur."

"Then it's a good thing she's out there instead of you or we'd be scraping you off the tarmac at some point. Lucky you made it back to the jeep in one piece." Troy smiled slightly before turning somber. "We need to find it a saddle or we're going to craft one."

"First of all, we gotta get to the cabin," Nick reasoned, darting an amused glance at him. "And no, I'm not the kind of amateur that falls off every time. I'm rather self-taught. Some rules they try to teach you about riding aren't all that comfortable. The officially correct way to sit in the saddle is not all that comfortable, either. And the length the stirrups should be in a sports saddle is not comfortable. Too high, which helps you fall off rather than stay on. I wasn't all into those lessons, but Alicia didn't mind. She was ready to endure anything just to have her riding time. And I didn't really give a damn."

Troy arched a brow in response to the knowledge he shared about the saddle and its comfort and nodded slowly, lazily, absorbing all of it before falling silent to keep an eye on the road.

As the ride went on, Alicia started to appreciate the periods of time when the horse decided to walk instead of running full throttle. Because with every firm bounce her head throbbed with pain and her injured side didn't fare much better. Not that she would admit to that, should anyone ask.

Alicia did spot what looked like a few infected shuffling about, but they were all the way across the opposite end of the field, and with the way they moved, they'd never make it to them in time. She still made sure Troy and Nick caught her gestures so they were aware of the situation, however.

Every now and then she was forced up onto the road to avoid trekking through patches of forest, and during one of these times, she had Troy throw her the jacket so she could cover her shoulders and arms from the persisting sun and its damaging rays.

In another thirty minutes, they picked a turn from the Interstate after consulting the maps. All was well for another ten minutes, and then, as they took a turn, there was a small crowd of dead traveling toward them. Nick stopped, killed the engine, and the horde spotted them, started to walk faster.

The horse realized what was coming and couldn't stay still. Nick glanced between the horde and his sister, hoping she knew how to keep the horse from rearing up.

The horse backtracked a little, unable to keep from pacing nervously, making Alicia tighten her grip on his mane and whispering words meant to soothe and reassure. Her gaze flicked to the two in the car, silently begging them to get to the infected before they could get to the horse.


	8. Chapter 8

**RIVER FLOWS NORTH — PART 6**

Troy removed his feet from the dash where they'd been resting the entirety of the journey, and winced slightly, scolding himself for the ridiculousness of his injury.

He hopped out, opened the back door, removed a knife from the weapons container, and moved toward the small crowd of wasted, forcing his steps to be fluid and determined.

It took concentrated effort to keep them from getting too close to the jeep and the horse standing a short distance away, restless and skittish as if it feared a breach. The crowd was stronger than they usually were, and the minor pain had slowed him down a tad.

What was going on?

Nick wasn't happy with just his knife, so he pulled out a machete. The horse was not going to get calmer.

"Alicia, ride away, let us clear them out," he called to her, waving the machete in the direction they came from. At least they knew the path was clear there. "Ride back, go! He'll throw you off if you stay!"

He hurried to join Troy who was already slicing into the crowd, drawing them off the highway. It was a painful work, and Nick debated covering himself in blood to make it safer and easier, but there was not so much time. Nor was the crowd all that big.

Troy, however, didn't seem so hot, anymore. He might be tired or there was something else Nick didn't know about.

Getting the horse to obey was no longer an easy task. He seemed confused, unsure of which direction would be safest, and even the tall grass on the side of the road startled him when it brushed up against his legs.

Luckily, Alicia managed to turn him around just as Nick and Troy attacked the group, and trotted back the way they had come, putting distance between them and the walking dead. When she stopped, Alicia could still see the infected and the progress the two men were doing in putting them down, but she was no longer close enough for the horse's nerves to flare anew.

It didn't seem like a big crowd once they started slicing through it, but then it felt to be going on forever. Nick lost his breath, his lungs became two burning embers, his ribs whined in throes, rejecting any new breath.

When it was over and they'd taken care of the group, Troy was breathing slightly heavier and scarcely as elated or energized by the fight as he usually would be.

Maybe he was just tired?

He wiped the knife off on the dead, checked himself over to make sure the close encounter he'd had with one of them hadn't left behind any surprises, and then steadily dragged them off the road to make a clear path for the horse.

Alicia stroked the side of the animal's long neck with one hand, continuing to murmur encouragements until every walking corpse had met their true end.

Then she approached again, slowly, testing the waters so to speak, while Troy and Nick tried to clear the way.

Troy checked the dead's pockets for anything useful, coming away with a packet of crumpled cigarettes that had seen better days and some gum.

He tossed Nick the cigarettes once he'd looked up, and peeled the wrapping from the gum, popping a piece into his mouth as a reward, and offered Nick one as they walked toward the jeep.

When the last one dropped and stilled, Nick propped his hands on his knees, trying to get his breathing to norm. It was like attempting to breathe under water. He caught the pack of cigarettes Troy tossed him only due to Otto's good aiming. Nick stuffed it in his back pocket and tried to straighten up. Wincing at another series of twinges, he walked slowly toward the Jeep. Alicia and the horse were fine. That was great.

"You still okay, Alicia?" Troy asked, extending the gum her way.

"All's good," she exaggerated, shaking her head at his offer. It tended to increase her hunger rather than dull it. "Are you two okay?"

Neither looked it. In fact, they both looked as though they would highly benefit from a shower and twelve hours in bed. She guessed the stress of the past few days was catching up with them. It certainly was that way for her.

"We getting close?"

Troy returned the rest of the gum to his pocket and studied the road ahead, seeking signs, anything to tell them again how far they'd come and how far they still had to go.

"I think so. We better. The sun's going to be gone in less than two hours and you're not going to want to be riding that thing when it does. We'd hardly be able to see what's coming."

He glanced at Nick and propped a hand against the bumper.

"You want me to take over driving?"

Nick considered having to drive for another hour or two, and it reflected inside of him in another throe.

He nodded. "Yeah, be my guest, if you feel okay yourself. You ain't as perky anymore, Otto."

"I'm okay," Troy replied, although that unfamiliar pull of weariness made him feel like resisting the idea for the first time in forever. He couldn't recall feeling tired since this whole thing started. Maybe it was the aftereffects of the drugs coming into play?

They could come after a few days, right?

That was the risk.

Or maybe he was beginning to get the onset of the flu?

"Okay, let's get going." Alicia patted the horse's neck and urged him forward. "Last stretch, handsome. Hopefully."

She let him walk for a while to come, allowing Nick and Troy to catch up to her with the car. The day was coming to a rapid end and that worried her a little. She was getting tired, and the horse no longer seemed as eager to run as he had before. This journey was wearing them all down. Alicia just prayed they actually made it to the cabin, and that when they got there, it would be habitable and not under someone else's control.

Troy slipped into the driver's seat, waited on Nick to join, and drove behind Alicia for a while.

Nice and easy. The time rapidly melting away with the sun.

Troy wasn't okay, but Nick didn't want to point it out any more times than he had already done. It would only focus Troy more on his weariness.

Nick shared water with him the next time he wanted a sip. Troy seemed to be concentrating on driving so much he didn't move to get the bottle while Nick knew he was thirsty by now. Nick wasn't happy to be making him strain himself more, but he hoped it would be over soon. If it wasn't, then he'd pick up the wheel and force Otto to rest.

After an hour or so of driving, Nick pulled the map again to reassess.

"It's probably this turn right here," he showed Troy, skimming a finger across the map. "It should be any time now, and then it's real close. At least to that forest. Where the cabin is, Alicia must know. Jake must have said something to make it more specific. Or we're gonna be searching for a needle in the woods."

Troy slowed to a manageable pace so that he could glance at the map and the image Nick was trying to show him and wouldn't rear end the horse if they were to stop. Troy still didn't recognize anything in the surrounding area. And how would he?

Time passed slowly, so very slowly, and Alicia was starting to struggle. Back in her "riding-lessons" days she had gone on several long trips with her fellow students and horses, where they'd ridden for hours from their riding school to another where the horses could safely spend the night while they camped on the grounds. And it had been fine. Alicia had been tired come evening, but nothing like what she felt now.

She was in pain, the kind she had initially hoped would fade once she got used to the sensation, but that instead intensified as time went on. But even the pain and discomfort couldn't deflect how sleepy she was getting, and once or twice she even caught herself having allowed her eyes to fall shut.

She held onto the horse with one hand and rubbed the other across her face in an attempt to perk herself up, blinking rapidly to fight her heavy eyelids from closing once more.

The sun was on its way down and the air was getting cooler. She carefully slid out of her jacket and tied it around her waist, hoping the slight chill would reawaken her sleepy brain.

"Alicia!" Troy called, sticking his head out the window, flipping on the flicker so that she could see what direction they were intending to head in when she turned around. He gestured, too, just in case she missed it.

When she veered off as instructed onto the dirt path, the jeep followed for about two miles before approaching a large stone sign advertising San Bernardino national forest.

They made it.

"Where to now?" Troy asked, raising his voice so that he could be heard by her a bit ahead of them.

Alicia made the horse stop once they reached the San Bernardino National Forest sign, turning slightly to examine her surroundings. There were several paths open to them now, all leading in different directions, but she didn't know which one to choose until she spotted the small wooden building carrying the name of INFORMATION. It was a few hundred feet away, up a small incline which she soon climbed.

"South of the Information cabin," she called back over her shoulder, trying to remember exactly what Jake had said the night he explained his cabin's whereabouts to her. "Close to a lake. Supposed to have 88 nailed to the front porch."

Troy followed her directions to the letter, sticking close behind her, carefully working his way up the incline, glad that the gears didn't stick and that the jeep was still working like a dream.

He didn't see any dead as of yet, or even people, but the denser it got the more concerned he got.

They were announcing themselves. In a big way.

He pulled off to the side and cut the ignition, glancing at Nick beside him. "I'm going to explore on foot. I don't want to waste any more fuel and I want to get a better look at what we're getting into."

Nick opened the door and stepped out, one foot still in the Jeep, surveying the highway and the woods framing it. When Troy emerged from his side, Nick spoke over the roof: "Let's at least roll it into the trees, off the road. There should be a parking area at the lake, but you're right, we've no way to know if it's clear and safe or not. So yeah, we should probably approach on foot, quietly, and scope up the place. But we need to secure the Jeep better. Hide it in case there are raiders around."

Troy agreed with that in all its glory, but they didn't know what lay off the road.

Alicia noticed the jeep had stopped behind her, so she halted the horse to wait, worried there might be trouble until she managed to overhear the conversation between the two men. It made sense. They were pretty much open targets out here, without knowing if anyone could be hiding in the cabins she assumed they were closing in on.

"What do we do about him?" she said, gesturing to the animal beneath her as he dipped his head to get at some grass on the side of the road.

Troy closed the driver's door, opened the back to help himself to a weapon, and started off the side of the road into the dirt, checking for nails and soft spots in which it could possibly get stuck. You couldn't be sure what traps people set. Especially hunters.

"We'll secure him to the jeep."

He walked a few steps, boots scraping the surface of the dirt, and then turned around to gesture for Nick to bring the car down.

When he moved to comply, Troy shifted deeper into the trees, looking for something they could possibly use to shade the lights and back and keep it from being spotted from the road if anyone else was to drive by. They wouldn't be able to save it from people walking through the forest, but that was the risk.

There was nothing out there but trees.

Troy could cut branches, possibly rip them off, but that would take more time than they had before darkness would settle in like a blanket and blindside everything.

Nick steered the Jeep after Troy, veering among the trees, and parked at the bushes that masked most of the vehicle. He pulled the key out as he slipped from the seat, and handed it to Troy.

Alicia was trotting to them, ducking from the branches.

"No, we can't leave him here, he'll draw attention and we'll come back to him dead," Nick reasoned and gave Alicia a sympathetic look. "You look tired as shit, I know you are, but you gotta hang in there a bit longer, if you can. Stick to the road shoulder so the hooves make less noise, and if there's anything, dead or alive, you ride away and let us take care of the problems, okay? We'll go ahead this time, and you stay behind so we get the benefit of stealth."

"It's fine," she said, giving him as much of a reassuring smile as she could muster, lifting her head slightly to nod in the direction where they needed to go. "Go play cowboys."

Troy let them decide between themselves what to do with the horse as his idea had been shot down, and started moving away, heading in the direction they'd intended to drive, scanning the numbers, searching for the dead and any sign that people were living here.

And why not?

The place was secure. It had water and it had shelter.

"Stay close to the trees," he suggested once Nick caught up. "If someone shoots at us at least we'll have a better chance of getting away."

He'd already had it happen once today and only managed to escape out of sheer luck.

"That forest leads to the lake, right?" Nick said to Troy before he started ahead again. "We should stick to it until we reach water. So there are less chances of anyone catching us off-guard."

Alicia followed behind them but kept a decent distance, sticking to the side of the path where the horse's hoofbeats would be muted. It was eerily quiet. Almost like the calm before a storm.

"I don't remember the area well enough to speculate," Troy responded, "but from the looks of it, I guess so. Only one way to find out." Troy slowed his step so that Nick could catch up and they could walk side by side. If anyone rolled up on them, he'd have an easier chance of getting Clark out of the way.

Troy's footsteps were light as they walked, knees bending as they approached the water until he crouched beside a tree, studying the trailers spaced out along the edge for any sign of movement.

He stayed in that position for a good two minutes before signaling for them to move, to stay within the barrier of the trees and to follow it along the water's edge until they were close enough to the residents to be able to make out numbers or allocated areas designated for the trailer homes.

Troy didn't see any movement or people but there were fresh tracks in the sand.

Either they'd left recently, arrived or they'd gone out in search of supplies. He didn't see the car belonging to it – none that didn't look abandoned and as if it fused to the spot.

He approached the first trailer and wiped at the dirt along the bottom of the windows with his sleeve, peering inside to get a look of the interior. There was a bunch of crap, but no people – no number.

He moved down the line and repeated the search with the next, aware of barking from somewhere, the sound of a small dog yapping to alert their owner as they unintentionally trespassed. Troy backtracked to press himself against the previous trailer, gesturing for Nick to do the same and to listen. Thankfully, after he'd joined the militia he'd learned the codes and gestures.

A door swung open unseen and two voices could be heard. Both male.

They didn't sound hostile from what Troy could gather, but they were cautious and searching for what had set off their warning system.

They were armed and wary, straining to see into the dark and probably refraining from shining flashlights for a reason. They stayed for a while, but then decided to return into their trailer, neither willing to walk through the dark woods in search of trouble, guns or no guns.

"We should go along the lake and find that cabin," Nick whispered to Troy before Otto got any crazy ideas of just shooting those two first. "Let's see what's there, and then we can think of what to do."

Alicia slowed down, commanding the horse to stop in his stride completely once Nick and Troy neared a few trailers, making sure she would remain out of immediate view. It wasn't easy to be stealthy on horseback.

She held her breath once someone emerged from one of the trailers, grateful the distant sound of a dog barking hadn't startled the horse into moving or dislodging her from his back. They eventually returned inside, but she still didn't leave her current hiding place. There was no way she'd be able to get past those trailers with the horse without alerting their owners to her presence. She'd have to take a different route.

Troy nodded his agreement and moved only once the trailer door closed again and one of its occupants yelled at the dog to shut the fuck up. He pressed against the side of the cabin, letting Nick lead the way since he'd been an inch behind, gesturing to their hanger-on in the near distance where they were going so she at least knew what to do with the horse and could decide.

Nick surveyed the trailer park, thinking, then turned to Troy again.

"Go to Alicia, stick to the trees and head for the lake, search for that cabin. I'll take a look around here and follow in a few. Wanna see if there are more living here."

Troy hesitated to leave him behind on mere principle but given the state of time and darkness and the fact that they didn't have much leeway to fuck around he didn't have much of a choice.

"Be careful," he said, pushing away from the trailer, darting to where he knew Alicia had been waiting for them in the distance.

"You should get off the horse," he suggested in a whisper and once he'd found her. "If those men happen to fire a weapon, it'll throw you off and it'll be easier to let them think he's alone."

"What's the plan?" she asked, lifting one leg over the horse's back so she could slide down its body. It hurt. It hurt a lot. She sucked in a sudden breath of air, regretting the choice of pressing her aching torso against the animal and the sharp landing that made her head thunder. Her face remained buried against the horse's side as she swallowed a groan of pain, fingers unintentionally fisting in his mane until the worst of it dulled somewhat.

Alicia turned to face Troy finally, but kept a hold of the horse so it wouldn't run into the potential danger ahead.

"What's Nick doing?"

Nick watched Otto sneak away to the shelter of the trees. He waited a bit more, then crept along the side of the trailer and to the next one. There was another one with lights in the windows. As he investigated the park, he found about three more inhabited trailers and the dog was barking again somewhere.

Nick didn't linger and followed his companions in the lake's direction.

They were rather far ahead, he barely caught up, tracking the horse by ear. The steed wasn't trying to be stealthy.

After Troy filled Alicia in on her brother's intentions, he led the way and she followed, one hand locked around the horse's halter. She was too aware of all the noise they were making to hear when Nick finally snuck up on them, startled by Troy suddenly drawing his gun and pointing.

"It's me, it's me!" Nick hissed when Troy trained his gun at him in the dark. "Four trailers have people in them. At first glance. And the lake is that way," Nick pointed a bit sideways. "You're taking too much to the right and gonna miss it. Come on."

Alicia's heart was in her throat until she recognized her brother's familiar voice, and they let him take the lead next after ushering them in the right direction. It was getting too dark among the trees to see much, but she thought after a while she could glean the outline of a cabin.

"Is that it?" she whispered, stalling the horse once more.

"One way to find out," Troy whispered, scavenging ahead of the two, keeping his feet firmly planted to the ground the closer he got in case of bear traps or whatever else hunters tended to use. A gift of the paranoid of having experienced people's depraved means of securing themselves. A lot of which—if he had the ability—he'd gladly do himself. There was no fencing around it, nothing to demarcate whose land was whose, apart from the trees. Troy had no idea where they'd find number eighty-eight, and with no light to help anymore, it was all guesswork.

He gestured for them to stop, to wait, and then moved speedily, ignoring the backdoor to find the front. He climbed the few porch steps slowly, aware of their every groan and squeak despite the blanket of dark. He didn't see any lights in any of the windows or anything to indicate that anyone lived there.

He drove a closed fist onto the wood panel, knocking hard twice, and then dashed off the porch to hide, heading the exact same way he'd come, cursing when he reached the side of the house and dropped to a crouch. He waited a beat, assuming that if anyone living stayed inside, they'd come out armed and ready.

Only it never happened.

That didn't mean it was clear, though.

Troy pressed a hand to the ground, sliding his hand across the dirt in search of something, and grabbed whatever to throw it at the windows.

It cracked once and then fell away somewhere.

"I guess no one's home," he stated in a whisper, slowly starting toward the front of the house again, being careful anyway in case whoever was smarter than he gave them credit for.

Nick stole along the wall toward the porch in the front and searched for any 88. The moon hid behind the clouds again, and it was hard to make out any details without a flashlight. Ahead from the porch, there was the lake, barely seen between the tree trunks. Next to the cabin, there was a garage.

The horse was getting restless, tired of being led around after so many months, possibly even years, of freedom. He stomped his hooves impatiently, threw his head back a couple of times, which made Alicia wince, and snorted.

"Is there any way into the garage?" she asked.

If there was and it was clear of danger and not too cramped, they could at least temporarily stow the horse there and allow themselves a simpler journey to and from the car.

Nick crept for the window and tried to look in, but it was too dark inside. He glanced back at Troy on his heel.

"I don't suppose you got a key?"

He chortled and tried the door, but it appeared to be locked, after all.

"We either use your head to bash it in with too much noise, or you can get a flashlight and something I can pick the lock with."

"Or," Troy retorted, given the options, mulling them over for about half a second, quickly raising a boot and swiftly kicking the door open. It gave like flimsy cardboard.

That was the thing about these houses. No security.

He grabbed Nick's shoulder in the dark, pulling him out of the way of anything that might come stumbling out, an arm secured against his upper body for about half a second so Nick could get the hint before Troy removed his gun.

If there was someone inside, then they'd have definitely heard that.

Troy inched toward the door, pressed his head against the side of the paneling and strained to listen for any activity that might be happening upstairs or elsewhere. There was a thumping from somewhere, but it sounded distinctly clumsy.

"Seems clear of the living," he stated in a conspiring whisper. "I'll check the garage."

Nick winced as Troy bashed in the door. That was the kind of noise he wanted to avoid. Nick wasn't up for standing watch and slicing the dead through the night.

There was no one, living or dead, on the first floor, but something might be on the second. He didn't immediately go there, checking the fireplace first. There was wood for it stocked next to it. Two chairs sat in front of it, a couch stood at the wall.

He followed Troy outside as he went for the garage. It wasn't wise to split up now on the unknown territory.

The horse was being nervous and Alicia had a hard time holding onto the halter. Nick could tell by her silhouette in the dark how exhausted she was.

As Troy kicked in the door like it was a piece of plastic, and Nick followed him inside, Alicia moved to stand in front of the horse, trying to get the horse's focus off their surroundings and onto herself. She rested her forehead against his, murmuring words of reassurance again, stroking the sides of his head. He calmed for all of thirty seconds before his nerves took over again. She narrowly avoided his muzzle slamming into her chin, forced to stand at his side again to avoid other potential collisions as Troy's form stalked away towards the garage.

The horse's uneasiness didn't go unnoticed, and for a time, Troy worried that maybe the animal sensed something they couldn't in the dark. He paused, listened, eyes taking in the unfamiliar silhouettes to try and distinguish what was friendly and what was foe before seeking the garage again.

For a time, it was hard to make out what was part of the house and what wasn't, and then, like some glimmer of magic, the door revealed itself, briefly illuminated by a touch of moonlight before disappearing.

The weather was iffy, and if the clouds were anything to go by, it was going to rain at some point.

He approached it cautiously and knocked. It wasn't long before he received a crash in return, louder, followed by a series of muffled groans that explained why the cabin hadn't been taken over.

Maybe the people in the area didn't know how to take care of the dead, or maybe they didn't care?

Troy regarded Nick as the latter walked up behind him.]

"I don't want to get rid of them until we have some light. I can't tell how many are in there. Do we have a torch back at the jeep?"

"I don't know, we got a lot of shit in your Jeep."

"Our jeep," Troy corrected, wracking his brain for an inventory list. They'd collected a lot of stuff over the last few days. He couldn't remember a torch.

Nick pondered, looking back at Alicia with her horse.

"We'll have to take him in the cabin, and he'll crap all over the place. But at least, he'll live."

"Fine. For tonight we'll let him stay inside." That way Troy didn't have to go to the jeep in the dark. He was still tired.

He slowly walked toward the cabin entrance. "We'll clear the upstairs and then you can bring him in, Alicia."

They were on the homestretch.

They wanted her to bring him into the cabin itself? Seemed strange, but Alicia was too tired to argue. As long as he'd be safe it was fine with her.

"'Kay," she murmured, inclining her head in a nod, shifting her weight from one foot to the other while waiting for their signal. "Be careful," she urged Nick once he was within the range of her voice, eyeing the dark cabin warily.

What they found upstairs was a couple of scared possums. It was unclear how they got there, but there was more logic in it than if it were an infected.

While Troy checked for more surprises around the second floor, Nick went to get Alicia. The horse dashed before her. It made him laugh. The animal really didn't want to stay outside longer than was necessary. His patience was done for this day.

It didn't take too long before Nick returned, and for that Alicia was grateful. The horse rushed for the door the moment they made to move and she was forced to release her hold on him. The doorway was too narrow for the both of them to pass through at the same time, anyway.

Alicia imagined the animal would do some damage during the night, but couldn't find it in her to care very much. She was too exhausted.

Troy captured the possums and shooed them out of the back door, briefly considering killing them so that they'd have some meat to eat, but granted how tired he was he didn't have the energy.

Maybe tomorrow he'd find them again.

Seeing the horse inside amongst the furniture in the dark like a lump was a bit surreal.

"There are two bedrooms upstairs. All clear."

He moved the nearest piece of furniture, pushing it out of the way to make more space for the horse since obviously, the animal would be taking up most of the living room, wincing when something crashed to the floor.

A lamp, maybe? A table? He kicked it aside and pushed the item toward the wall, along with what felt like a wood chair or couch.

When Troy was done, he headed toward the kitchen in search of the taps and water. The horse would need it after the long ride, and their own water they'd left in the bush.

Alicia did briefly consider suggesting they should get back to the jeep and fetch their belongings. There was no guarantee it would still be there in the morning and to lose all that water and what remained of their food would be a shame. But she didn't really think any of them were willing to go for another walk. Troy and Nick might have been better at hiding it at this point, but it was clear they were all tired.

The door wouldn't fully latch after Troy's violent treatment of it, and after a moment's consideration Alicia asked:

"Should we block it from the inside? Just in case?"

"We definitely should," Nick agreed, "unless Troy wants the possums to come back for a visit."

He circled the horse and went to check the kitchen. Troy was busy trying the taps. The results were not inspiring; the taps chortled and choked, and then water started trickling. It didn't look dirty.

"That's lucky," Nick remarked. "Probably due to the lake water. Must be using that."

Water being provided from the lake made a lot of sense to Troy. They were self-sustainable and people statistically stayed at places like these during the summer or a week here and there. The sad thing was that depending on how many people had holed up here and how much it rained – it would eventually run dry.

Like everything.

But from what he'd glimpsed of the lake before the sun stole away, that wouldn't be happening soon. That was just a long-term thought.

He turned off the water and bent to search the cupboards blindly. He found what he guessed was a breakfast dish, and filled it to the best of its capabilities before slowly carrying it over into the living room.

Troy set the bowl down, dipped his fingers into the water and pressed them to them to the horse's muzzle, a hand combing through his mane gently, coaxing him in the dark to find the gift at his feet.

"We could use the couch to block it. I think I knocked over a side table, too."

Not that it would help much.

It probably wouldn't make much of a difference if the living came to call, but at least there was a bigger chance they'd hear someone at the door if they had to push a couch across the floor to enter.

Navigating her way through the dark until she reached said couch, Alicia pushed against it to test its weight. Heavier than she suspected.

"Give me a hand, Nick?"

Nick took a hold of the couch, pushing along with Alicia until it was barricading the door. He would have liked to have the handle secured with wires, too, but there was not much more they could do with what they had. It had to hold until morning.

"We gotta catch some shuteye and deal with the rest in the morning," he said, sitting down on the couch to rest a bit.

Troy combed his fingers through the horse's mane, encouraging the steed to follow him, giving them space to work.

When they were done, he released the horse so it could drink water in peace and acquaint itself with the room that was to be his barn for the night.

He didn't care that it was early or that he hadn't eaten. Food was a secondary thought to exhaustion. Besides, it wasn't the first time Troy'd been without it since this thing started.

He headed to the kitchen, collected what he assumed was plates and felt his way back to the staircase.

"Upstairs," he stated, gesturing despite the fact that he doubted they could see him. "You need a decent bed to heal those ribs of yours, Nick. You too, Alicia."

Alicia's ribs didn't hurt nearly as bad as her head at this point, and she was starting to think Troy's earlier assumption she'd gotten herself a concussion was correct. The ride had probably done more bad than good on that front, considering her brain now felt like scrambled eggs. But she didn't argue. She simply navigated her way over to the stairs and climbed them one by one step, collapsing atop the first bed she came across, all but gone before she could even remove her boots or jacket.

Alicia shuffled upstairs, and Nick was too lazy to force his ass off the couch as if his body suddenly weighed as much as the horse that snorted beside him.

He heard the bowl shift against the floor, then there were suckling sounds as the horse drank.

He tried a sigh, but his ribs didn't share the sentiment. Eventually, he made an effort and got off the couch, then started up the stairs. He went to the first room and found Alicia passed out on the bed. It was a rather wide mattress, so he lay down beside her and closed his eyes. And the world melted away.

Once the both of them had slid past Troy and upstairs, he followed, setting down plates strategically as he went to act as a secondary alarm in case someone was to creep in.

Who'd be expecting that? No one.

He climbed the rest of the way, found the bathroom, relieved himself and headed in search of his own room, dropping onto the mattress face first, allowing himself to give in to the pull of sleep without guilt.

* * *

Alicia was back in the cellar, the air heavy and suffocating, a sheen of sweat glistening on her skin as she drove her blade into another skull.

"What did you do?"

She turned to see Mom burst through the doorway, followed by Nick, Strand, Troy, and Walker. They all looked at their surroundings with horror.

Mom's eyes were wide and terrified. "Alicia, what did you do?"

"They were sick," Alicia said, her gaze falling on the man she had just tended to, traveling over the dozens and dozens of corpses splayed out on the concrete floor. They were at rest now.

"No, they weren't," Mom argued, making her frown.

Alicia sighed and moved to lift the man's shirt, to show them all the bite mark on his abdomen. Only it wasn't there. She couldn't find it.

"They were sick," she repeated with a little more urgency, getting to her feet to search the others. "I saw it."

Her search yielded no new results. But she had seen it. They were bitten, they were going to die and turn. She was just putting them out of their misery.

"They weren't infected." It was Nick who spoke now. They were all watching her, disgust visible on their faces.

"What did you do?!" Mom moved so quickly Alicia could barely see her. She grasped her daughter by the shoulders, shaking her, suddenly furious. Her voice was so loud, echoing through the cellar and reverberating in Alicia's skull with such intensity it hurt.

"WHAT DID YOU DO, ALICIA?!"

Alicia burst from her bed the moment her eyes opened, blindly rushed out of the room and down the stairs, unintentionally kicking porcelain dishes across the floor. She narrowly avoided colliding with the horse on her way to the door, where she was met with that damned couch she and Nick had brought over earlier. She pulled at it, yanking hard with all her strength and moved it just enough to create a gap she could slip through after getting the door open.

It felt as though she was going to be sick, but when she got outside and fell to her haunches just beyond the front porch, instead she exploded in loud, unexpected sobs. Her arms on her knees, Alicia put her hands over her face and cried, her heart pounding wildly, struggling to draw breath, overcome with a strong sense of self-loathing and guilt.

Her nightmare had not been real. She knew that. She knew the events that had truly happened were different. But it didn't much matter. It didn't matter that the awful actions she had performed were done for 'the right reasons'. It didn't matter that the people she had put down had volunteered, sacrificed themselves to save the rest. Taking lives, even lives that would fade on their own soon enough, had broken something inside her. Had scratched and clawed at that part of her she had vowed to keep intact. And it hurt to lose it, hurt to see their faces with her mind's eye and hear their pleading voices begging for more time she couldn't give them.

The night sky was slowly brightening, turning the heavens into a beautiful mural of yellows and pinks she failed to appreciate as she tried to stop the endless stream of tears staining her cheeks.

* * *

A series of chaotic loud noises yanked Nick from his sleep. He sat up in a jerk and noticed that Alicia wasn't next to him, anymore.

Downstairs, the horse was snorting nervously, his hooves thudding, and something being pushed.

He scrambled off the bed, dashing downstairs so quickly his chest combusted in throes. He paid no mind as his blood grew colder each moment.

The couch was clumsily pushed away from the door that was open a crack.

"Alicia!"

Nick squeezed out and fell on his knees next to his sister that was cowering on the ground, her whole body shaking as he took her by the shoulders to pull her up a bit. He had to make sure she wasn't injured.

"Alicia! What is it? What happened?"

The plate system worked a little too well and had Troy roll off the mattress and onto his knees without so much as a blink of hesitation, gun in hand as he listened to a rush of footsteps charging down the stairs.

He wasn't even sure he'd actually been asleep.

He moved toward the door, gun poised and trained ahead, following the commotion down the stairs until he found one sibling wrapped around another with an equally frantic look on his face.

Troy didn't say anything but automatically looked back and inside for blood or any signs of entry, earning a lazy greeting from their pet steed who tried to nudge him from behind in an attempt to get out. Troy guessed it wanted to graze.

Otto didn't budge, though, didn't touch the horse, and stood guard.

Alicia squeezed her eyes shut as Nick's hands clasped her shoulders, unable to meet his gaze, loathing the fact he was seeing her like this but unable to stop the sobs from launching through her body like little convulsions. She was painfully aware of his attention on her, as well as Troy having come up behind them, and though she had expected to feel some embarrassment for the spectacle she was making, she soon realized those feelings never emerged at all. There was shame, yes, but for different reasons. Not embarrassment.

She could hear her mother's words: "You were always the strong one." Several people had said that to Alicia lately, as if that meant she had more responsibilities than the rest. No one really cared to know whether she truly was strong or if it was just an act. It didn't seem fair that she had to keep pretending to be something she didn't feel in her heart. And yet, as these thoughts flitted around her head, she inwardly chastised herself for not keeping up appearances. Even for Nick who knew her better than anyone. It felt so utterly wrong to make him worry about her.

She opened her eyes eventually, tried to speak, to reassure him she wasn't injured in the way he feared, but the only words she managed to utter as she grasped his arms tightly were: "I keep seeing their faces…"

Nick's mind was still foggy from sleep, and at first, it was a puzzle. Mom and Strand's faces popped in his head, then the proctors. It didn't feel right.

And then, it came to him. In her voice from before.

'They were so scared…'

Sobbing, just like now.

Nick grimaced as if she'd punched him in the ribs, then pulled her to him, kissing the side of her head. He felt as if his heart was literally bleeding for all this pain she had to be in. He had no idea how to make it easier.

Deep down, he didn't believe it could ease up. His never had.

"You couldn't save them, Lisha," he murmured, holding her. "No one could. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you had to go through this. I should've saved you. I should've come for you sooner. I'm so sorry."

Troy gazed down at the broken girl, trying to dig for a semblance of responsibility or guilt to choke him as Jake would have liked or tried to instill in him for years but found none.

It's wasn't there.

It's not that Troy even felt victorious seeing the carnage or remembering that Jake had died, not as much as he'd pictured when he'd led the horde and planned to massacre everyone that had laid siege to his home.

No, it was just something that needed to be done and he'd achieved that. Mission accomplished.

He barely even thought about the aftermath, anymore. At least he tried not to.

He lowered his weapon, tucked it into the waistband of his pants and quickly inched his way back into the house, swiping at his eyes to clear them of sleep and to allow himself a chance to properly wake up.

It made things even worse that Nick somehow felt he was responsible for her doings, that her pain should have been his to carry because he wanted so desperately to protect her. But Alicia understood. It was love. Had their situations been reversed, she would have wished for the same thing.

Mom had offered her no such gestures. Not at the ranch, and not back at the hotel when Alicia had killed a man to protect Travis. Madison had just said, "You'll be okay," and they had talked no more about it. And though Alicia didn't directly blame her for that, it stung a little to know Nick seemed to care more than Mom had.

The fact he wasn't berating Alicia for reacting the way she did made her feel safe. Safe to cry until she was no longer able to do so. She clutched her brother for a long, long time, her forehead resting on his shoulder, and eventually, her sobs stilled and were replaced with soft breathing, eyelashes still wet as she fell asleep.

She was crying for a long while, and Nick held her. The dawn was breaking around them, some birds started to chirp.

Eventually, Alicia stilled, her breath hot on his neck. She seemed to be asleep. It wasn't all that amazing after what she had endured through the day. He shifted his right leg from the knee to the foot, propping it steadily, then gingerly lifted her up, not to wake. It was a hell of an agony bursting inside his chest as he held his breath at first, and then breathed in shallow little intakes as he carefully ascended the porch and slipped in.

Troy was wandering around the living room like a zombie. It was a wonder he hadn't returned to bed, but at this particular moment, it was good to have him here.

Troy frowned when Nick came in carrying Alicia, looking like every step was painful and like he might drop her at any moment. He didn't ask Troy to take her, and despite the urge, Otto didn't offer, assuming he wouldn't take it and that this was another one of those big brother things he needed to do solo.

"Secure the door, will ya," Nick asked in a wheezy whisper and started up the stairs. Every step was a scorching disaster in his lungs, but he made it to the bed. He lowered her on it, and then slipped to sit on the floor, doubled over to wait out the pain. It refused to let go. When it was a tad less sharp, he collected the few stamina drops left and climbed up to take his place beside her.

This time, sleep didn't come easy. It hurt too much. The first specks of sunlight brightened on the curtains right before he finally drifted off.

Troy waited until Nick made it to the top of the landing safely, and then grasped the horse's mane, slowly guiding him toward the door and off to porch to a patch of nearby grass that wasn't green anymore.

There was no way in hell Troy'd be able to go to sleep again. Not after that shit show.

Not that he was feeling guilty or anything, the house was just a tad stifling, and they'd probably be grateful for his lack of presence for a while.

He stayed close to the horse, watching the steed move through the trees, nibbling at the ground, searching out the best bit of breakfast and seemingly failing to find one spot that worked just right.

"Pickings are slim for all of us," Troy mused companionably, glancing at the cabin in the distance, finally finding a number on the side above the garage. It wasn't eighty-eight.

They'd broken into someone else's place.

That was okay, too, considering what he'd noticed the horse had gifted them between the living room and the kitchen and would later have to be cleaned up if they intended to stay.

He walked a short distance in search of another house, another number that rung closer to the one they'd been looking for the night before, the horse following at a pace, eating his way.

When Troy returned to the house some twenty minutes later, it was quiet and the two upstairs were dead to the world. The more recovery time they got the better.

He stood staring at them while they slept, considering, and then wandered away in search of the bathroom to try and make use of the shower.


	9. Chapter 9

**RIVER FLOWS NORTH — PART 7**

Her early-morning dramatics combined with yesterday's physical efforts seemed to ensure no more nightmares came for Alicia this time around. She slept soundly, and when she woke, the sun was high up in the sky.

Nick was beside her, asleep as well, his lips slightly parted, breathing slow and steady. She lay on her back, gaze fixed on the ceiling for quite some time, trying to be as still as possible to keep from waking her brother. He looked as if he could use every minute of sleep gifted to him. Which, of course, renewed her guilt for having made such a fuss. They'd been right back where they started. Big brother saving her from her nightmares.

Finally, she had to move. She did so cautiously, careful not to jostle the bed and to keep her boots from making too much noise on the floor. Luckily, quite a lot of this cabin appeared to be carpeted, dampening her footsteps as she went in search of the bathroom.

Troy filled the bath as best he could despite the fact that there was no hot water, spending an hour scrubbing himself with floofy flower soaps and a loofah.

He considered sneaking away and going for the jeep to make sure it was still there, but didn't like the idea of leaving the injured and sleepy duo defenseless. They'd already had one drama today.

When he grew tired of the static activity and was thoroughly chilled, he climbed out of the bath, took a piss in the toilet, collected his clothes off the bathroom floor along with his gun, and pulled them on as he exited the bathroom.

Starting with his shirt.

Alicia approached the door she assumed led to the bathroom but stilled once it opened before she could even reach for the door handle.

He hadn't taken a step when unexpectedly a body appeared before him, all hair and wild eyes.

"Jesus!" he cursed, scarcely having heard her, let alone expected one of them to be awake.

This was awkward and he supposed offensive, given her earlier meltdown.

Troy appeared, all shirt and no pants – Winnie The Pooh style. His hair was wet, and Alicia gathered from his state of undress he had just washed. And she seemed to have taken him by surprise. She secretly enjoyed the brief glimmer of fear in his eyes before he realized it was her standing there.

He dropped the arm holding his jeans to shield her delicate eyes and whatever ire might arise at seeing him naked, and took a step to the left so she could obviously continue on into the bathroom.

"There's no hot water," he stated helpfully, shuffling to the room he'd designated, closing the door behind him.

Had he been anyone else, she probably would have found this encounter the height of hilarity, but as she watched him awkwardly shuffle away the only thought that occurred to her was: You look like your brother.

_Ew._

She didn't respond to his statement about the water, having thought as much already, considering there was no electricity for a water heater here. Alicia stepped inside and closed the bathroom door behind her, locking it for good measure to avoid a similarly awkward and probably traumatizing experience should Nick suddenly wake up.

Shrugging out of her jacket, she made quick use of the toilet, and despite the ice-cold water, decided to brave a shower.

Troy pulled on the rest of his clothes, remade the bed he'd slept in the night before, and searched the bedroom, unsurprised to find nothing of use. When things had gone to hell, it was in the off season.

He stepped out into the narrow hall, glanced into the opposite bedroom where Nick lay sleeping, and slowly started his way downstairs, picking up the bits and pieces of broken plates.

Not one had survived.

He deposited them on a side table, observing as the horse dropped another flatty with a wave of its tail.

A clear sign that he needed to get out or this place would turn into a hazard come nightfall or mid-afternoon.

That's if they even stayed here that long. They weren't in the right place.

Troy rifled through the kitchen drawers, stepped over the hardened turd acting as a weird border between the two rooms, and headed outside with two blunt butter knives (they weren't exactly standard issue but with the right amount of force they'd do the job), closing the door so their resident pet wouldn't shadow him.

He approached the garage and gave a light knock to re-establish what he'd heard the day before. The bounding was immediate and as clumsy as if the dead inside only had one note.

Troy placed both knives in one hand, reached for the handle, testing to see if it was locked from the inside or had some other intricate means of keeping it closed, and found that it moved easy. Only this time it wasn't possums but two pairs of rotted feet that appeared. They pushed at the wood from the inside, indifferent to the fact that what they were trying to achieve was impossible, and eventually succumbed to gravity.

He opened the door the rest of the way, taking a step back, watching as they tried to scramble to their feet, stomping over each other in their desperation to claw at his flesh, hindering each other more than they were helping and making it even easier for him to put some space between himself and them.

"Come and get it, idiots," Troy rebuked, slipping the second knife back into his other hand, tapping at his thigh for importance. It took them some time and crawling, but in due course they were on their feet again, shuffling, following him from the house and into the trees he'd let the horse graze in earlier. Taking them out was only stress-free in theory, and once the butter knife went through one's eye socket and lodged itself, it stayed, slippery due to blood and other muck, pushing Troy to use the butt of his gun and a boot to take care of the second.

A workout that took twenty minutes.

He returned to the garage, looking like Nick on his best days, and as though he hadn't spent a good hour in cold water trying to scrub days' worth of grime from under his fingernails. Inside was a four door Cherokee, doors closed, loaded to the hilt as if the couple was in the middle of leaving back to civilization when either one or both of them were attacked and bitten. Troy didn't see the culprit lying around anywhere that could have done the damage but there were old blood splatters that told enough of a story and allowed him to piece something together. He checked first the passenger door and then the back, finding that all appeared to be locked, brushing a hand at the thick black dirt that clung to the windows to peer inside.

What he found inside was a cooler, blankets, a jacket, and a baby.

He removed his gun from his waistband and drove it into the window with force, glass scattering, showering the wiggling form locked into its car seat with splinters. Milky eyes locked on him almost cutely, bony hands flailing, a slow smirk of curiosity twisted in the corner of Troy's mouth. He'd seen a lot of people turn, all shapes and sizes, but never a baby. It seemed cruel in some way. Like a cosmic joke. He couldn't see any bite marks on the little body or any blood at all, so obviously the baby had died of starvation.

Troy offered it his hand, let it grip his finger to gauge its strength and let it attempt to put it in its mouth before pulling back, reaching across the front seat to unlock the passenger door and then shut it.

He repeated the procedure until he'd opened the driver's side and managed to manually open the trunk. There was quite a bit inside. Folded blankets, clothing bags, baby formula, insect repellent, board games and a cooler with perishables that were stomach-turning to smell.

He set them aside, closed the trunk, and carried everything but the cooler toward the front door. As soon as he could, he'd clean out the cooler and use it as a makeshift trough for the horse.

He returned to close the garage door and then carried his wares inside, deciding to wait until he had another pair of hands before he'd move the car, since it was without keys and he'd have to push it.

But that was only if they were staying.

* * *

The cold water made her shower anything but enjoyable, but the fact that Alicia got to use actual soap and shampoo to cleanse her skin and hair made it all worth it. When she finished and dried off, stepping back into her relatively fresh clothing, she almost felt like herself again. The old Alicia, whose face rarely was streaked with dirt and blood. It was nice.

She brushed through her hair with her fingers, leaving it down so it would dry quicker, and stepped out of the bathroom.

From the looks of it, Nick was still asleep. She gently closed the door so the sounds of the horse and who she assumed to be Troy downstairs wouldn't wake him.

The first floor reeked of a foul smell she initially assumed belonged to the horse's droppings she cautiously stepped over, but when faced with a goo-covered Troy shifted her suspicions.

"Jesus," she said, repeating his curse from earlier, wrinkling her nose until his new odor was no longer a surprise attack on her senses. "What happened to you?"

Her gaze automatically roamed his body for signs of injury, even if she knew the substances he was covered in were too rotted and spoiled to actually be  _his_  blood.

"You okay?"

Her presence didn't catch Troy off-guard this time and her distaste for the smell matched his own. If he could he'd burn these clothes. And himself in them.

"All good. I was doing routine maintenance. The garage is pretty much cleared except for the fact that there is a car in there that we're going to have to move to make sufficient room for our four-legged friend. Also a cooler, that, if you like your senses, I don't suggest you touch. I want to knock the top off and make Fido a water bowl."

He gestured to the belongings he'd deposited on the couch.

"There's some blankets that'll come in handy, we could maybe even try to fashion one into a saddle of some kind, I haven't quite figured the logistics in my head yet and some clothes. The owners weren't exactly raky but I'm sure there will be some things that'll work."

"It was packed?" she asked, eyeing the load of supplies he'd dumped on the kitchen counter. "The car, I mean? If they were ready to head out, it probably means it's got some fuel left for us."

Even a gallon of petrol would be a prize these days. Alicia moved to inspect the pile of blankets, giving them a cursory sniff. They were clean, but smelled kind of moldy as though they hadn't been aired out in forever. Which was probably the reality.

She grabbed them all and headed for the front porch to hang them over the railing, the horse nudging her back with his muzzle in a not-so-subtle hint for her to move aside. She reckoned he wanted to go outside. Couldn't blame him for that. He was probably hungry.

Alicia watched the dirt road leading to the cabin, wondering how far they were from the jeep. If it was even still there.

Seeing what she was doing, Troy grabbed one blanket and spread it out on the opposite railing, leaving the rest for her to tend to since he smelt like a walking toilet.

"Anything edible in the cupboards?" she asked Troy, ushering the horse back inside.

"Nothing from what I saw earlier, and nothing in the car. From what I can tell, they were literally planning to leave before one or both of them got attacked. There should be fuel in the car, but I haven't found the keys yet. Unless you know anything about hotwiring? Either way, we don't really need it, all I want to do is roll it off into the field and that's easily done just by freeing up the hand break. Unfortunately, if you're up to it, I'll need your help with that."

"We can still siphon the fuel for the jeep," she countered, closing the door behind them so the horse wouldn't follow. "And, sure. Let's do it." Sadly, her hotwiring skills were lacking, but she was more than able to push a car for a few feet. Unless it was uphill.

Alicia stepped off the porch and headed for the garage, reached for the handle and pulled the large gate open, assuming Troy had already taken care of its previous owners, considering the current state of his appearance.

It was one of those old garages that still had a dirt floor, but that would probably suit the horse better than concrete. She went to get behind the car, froze when she sensed movement from inside, and found herself unable to speak for a moment as her gaze landed on an undead baby. It was strapped to its car seat, short arms flailing as its dead eyes rolled in her direction.

"Oh no…" she breathed finally, feeling a pang of sorrow for the tiny soul that had met such a cruel end. He couldn't have been more than six months old.

Considering what had happened this morning, Troy should have warned her about the baby or at least disposed of it himself but he hadn't wanted to. Maybe because it was defenseless and fragile.

Troy was still trying to decide the implications for his decision as he could have laid it to rest with its family – only that was sentimental – and he rarely took care in that. He guessed Nick would do that. Or would have if Alicia didn't get there first.

"Makes you think twice, huh?" he added conversationally, rounding to the driver's side of the door to get down to business. He opened it, braced a hand against the panel beneath the window. He pointed to the passenger door so that she could open it and replicate his position. "Once you're ready, use the door as leverage, I'll take it out of gear, release the handbrake and hopefully we'll be able to roll this baby out into the trees."

A bad choice of words he surmised but one he wasn't going to apologize for.

Alicia couldn't help but wonder if the parents had died first or if the child had beat them to it. Then the horrifying image of two zombified parents trying to break through the windows in order to eat their own baby alive popped into her head, and she suddenly felt a little sick.

She hated this new world.

The window on the baby's side had been shattered, and she assumed that was Troy's work, too, since the infant still appeared to have all limbs intact. He wasn't suffering any longer. At least, she didn't think so. But they couldn't just leave him like this. It was so wrong.

Reaching for the knife in her boot, she opened the door, took a steadying breath, and drove the blade into the baby's temple. It stilled instantly, all life immediately gone.

It didn't feel like it had back in the cellar. This child was already beyond help and she knew that. But it still pricked at her heart. Just another one to add to the list.

Alicia swallowed, cleaned her knife on the seat, and slid it back before accommodating Troy's instructions, taking hold of the open front passenger door and leaned her weight forward to help push once he'd release the handbrake.

She couldn't find it in her to meet his gaze and simply gave a nod to signal she was ready.

As soon as she'd taken care of baby duty, Troy leaned over the seat, shifted the gears, added the final touches and started to push.

The car strained at first – they strained – and then it started to roll, crunching gravel as it went, starting into a steady speed that could easily slip away from them if they were to let it go.

With one hand on the steering wheel, they guided it toward the side of the road, between the trees where it wouldn't obstruct the jeep once they fetched it, appear as too much of an eyesore, or draw attention.

"That should be far enough," Troy instructed, reaching in to grab at the handbrake again, immediately stopping the process in its place without any of the car's usual grace.

Alicia closed the doors on her side, intentionally avoiding another glance at the baby.

"We gonna get the jeep?" Considering the position of the sun, she assumed it was already noon. "Unless someone's already gotten to it."

"Definitely," he said, straightening up, shutting the driver's door so that he could round to the back and give their new digs a studious onceover.

The place was pretty secluded, and with some work could be quite the stronghold.

"We should wake Nick. We know there are people around here, at the lake, and if they scavenge up this way, who knows what they'll decide to do."

Alicia nodded and headed back for the cabin. "I'll do it."

She was still reluctant to wake her brother. He needed all the rest he could get. But they couldn't just up and abandon the jeep either when all their provisions and weapons were locked inside it.

* * *

Nick woke with a jerk, gasping, as if a fatal current went through his body. It took a moment to regain awareness of where he was and that there was no Celia before him asking him to stay on her villa while it burned around them. Ofelia wasn't behind him, either, asking if he felt guilt in that undead wheezy hiss while her bloody teeth snapped.

Alicia wasn't beside him, anymore. Nick felt a pang of fear she had another fit, but then Troy would have heard if Nick didn't. He wouldn't let her stay in danger. At least, Nick believed so.

His chest ached like he had a train collided into it an hour ago. He went to the bathroom, took care of morning business, then turned on the water taps and washed his face and hands. It was pleasant to feel its cool touch on his skin. It helped clear his head a little.

When he was descending the stairs, the horse was preparing to either crap or pee. Neither was acceptable. Nick dashed toward it, forgetting his pains, and swung the door open.

"Go, get out!"

It was happy to oblige. Nick followed and found Alicia and Troy outside.

"It's not a fucking dog, you guys, the hell you locked him in?"

He regarded Troy and smirked.

"I see you cleaned the garage."

* * *

Before Alicia could make it off the field, Nick appeared on the front porch, the horse rushing out ahead of him to tend to its own business and distract itself with whatever vegetation was acceptable to its palette.

"There are people around. He wanders, he might get hurt. Or lead them back to us." She continued walking until they were within touching-distance, then lowered her voice and murmured: "I'm sorry… about earlier."

Not that Troy worried the horse would get hurt — that was still a coin toss — but the fact that it could bring hell down on them by having other people venture this way was a big deal. The longer they could stay hidden from the rest – the better.

Troy strolled toward Nick, glad to see that he was on his feet, noticing that he didn't actually look much better.

"I thought I'd get a head start on clean up duty. I had time. Besides Alicia and I were just about to come wake you. We shouldn't leave the jeep out there unattended any longer than is necessary."

"You should've woken me when you were up," Nick chided. "We should go get the Jeep now. But as for those trailer people, we can't hide from them. We need to watch them some more and decide whether we can have them near us with no problem - and then we should meet them face to face - or if they're bad news, it's best to leave."

Alicia doubted Troy would go for that considering his earlier desire to fight and protect what was rightfully his, but she wasn't all that eager for a shootout.

"You needed all the sleep you could get," she told Nick after his chiding remark. "We all did."

"What she said," Troy added in regards to his chiding. "We didn't need you for this part and we don't need you to get the jeep either if you're not up to it. You took quite the beating, man. You haven't been able to rest properly and I'm not expecting that to clear up overnight."

He was more a determent to his own survival, if anything, and Troy couldn't have that.

Nick set his jaw, annoyed by their concern and by his loathing of it in equal measure.

Alicia gestured to the horse still searching for food among the dead leaves on the ground. "Garage? Can't exactly take him with us."

Troy nodded, finally dragging his attention to the horse that had found a spot of grass and was happily chewing.

"That's what it's for. You want the honors, horse whisperer, or have you had enough?"

"If either of you babies me again, I'm gonna dump your asses," Nick promised with a serious face and went for the horse.

He pitied the animal, it didn't deserve to be kept in a lockdown without even being fed. But Nick doubted Alicia was ready to take another riding tour.

Alicia held her hands up in mock-defense at Nick's threat, but took it in stride. She guessed no one in their little group enjoyed such attention and that they all shared some of the stubborn trait that would rather run them into the ground than be a burden to those around them.

Nick pulled the steed away from the grass by its halter and toward the garage. The horse wasn't happy and was on to him as soon as it guessed the direction. Troy had to push at its rear while Nick pulled at the halter before they got it inside. It was snorting and stomping in protest behind the closed door.

"He might alert the neighbors," Nick remarked. "We should hurry."

While Nick and Troy busied themselves with the horse, Alicia moved inside to shed her jacket. It was getting hot out again and she didn't need the extra layer like she had the night before. They had finished by the time she got back out and closed the door behind her (as best she could, anyway).

"Same route as yesterday or should we stick to the road?" she asked as she met up with them in the small driveway. Both options were risky. It was far less likely they'd be able to sneak past the trailers in broad daylight, but they didn't know what the road itself might hold. They'd have to find out sooner or later, though, if they were to bring the jeep here.

Troy didn't take Nick's threat seriously. If Alicia were in the positon, Troy'd have treated her the exact same way and so would Nick, if not worse. That's what caring was. You couldn't be at your worst in this world to be your best because there was always some snake — dead or alive — willing to strike. Troy'd been that snake for a long time and had Nick come to him in this condition then, he'd have been the first to go on pure principle. That, and easy target practice. The only reason his girlfriend had even lived was because of Madison and who Troy'd eventually recognized that Nick was.

But that was Troy. He had a vested interest. And thank God for that. That would have been a mistake. A big one Troy wouldn't even have known he'd made.

"If he goes Rambo on that door we're going to be eating horse steak tonight," Troy stated, leaning against the garage door, not hearing him going crazy inside but not hearing him settle either. "You two should stick to the route we took yesterday. And keep close. I'll check the road, make sure there isn't anything that'll puncture a tire and make sure we'll be able to get here safely. My only concern is actually doing it. There will be no way to do it quietly. If the jeep's there and we bring it up this way, given how quiet it is out here, someone is going to hear and someone is going to wonder."

He pushed away from the door, letting them mull it over, as well, and started to walk.

"That's why I said we can't continue hiding," Nick responded, following Troy. "If they're okay, we should introduce ourselves. If they're not, we better leave. We don't need another war for property."

Alicia followed in her brother's wake, half-jogging a few feet to catch up with the two. "Agreed. It ends badly for everyone."

Everything that happened at the ranch should have been proof of that. She still wasn't sure Troy agreed, but surely he wouldn't go off waging a war on his own. He could be reckless, but he wasn't stupid.

"So what, we go up to the door, knock and politely introduce ourselves?" Troy'd let them take the lead on that and clean up the mess, if any. He fell back a step, removed his gun from his waistband, and checked how many rounds he had left and put it back, covering it with the hem of his shirt.

"They might beat us to it if our horse or our car introduce us." Nick steered into the woods to replicate the path they took last night, except for avoiding the trailers altogether.

Once more Alicia followed as Nick veered off, pushing branches out of her path with both hands as they walked. The forest had looked thicker last night. Now she could see it in daylight, it was actually quite sparse in places, allowing them to move easier. It wasn't long before they could see the trailers in the distance, and even if there was still quite the distance between the trio and them, she lowered her voice to a whisper when she next spoke.

"I only saw two men last night. Did you get a clear look at who the others were?"

"I noticed some fresh tire tracks before the sun drifted out but that could belong to their car," Troy said. "All I know for sure is that there is two of them and that they have a dog. A small dog, probably."

He didn't like walking as they did, confident and like they had to trust in the decency in others, quieting the voice that told him to fall back, to let them go ahead and play back up.

The less those people knew of Troy's group's numbers, the better.

"There's no way of knowing how many there are," Nick said, looking between them. "We need to see more. But we gotta be prepared. We need our car."

Alicia nodded. "Let's hope it's still there." They continued to walk until the lake was out of sight. She began to recognize the road they'd taken the night before, the slight curves and bends, and before long, they were back where they'd parked the jeep. It looked fine and untouched from afar, but Alicia was still wary, approaching the vehicle with caution in case someone had indeed been here and left unpleasant surprises behind.

"We've got to be smart, revealing our resources and the fact that we aren't empty-handed – isn't. If the car is still where we hid it, we should leave it there until the pleasantries are out of the way."

And from what he could tell when they finally made it to the spot, it was still there, and untouched upon closer inspection. Did the people in the trailers not move down this road or did they only know what was around them? Whatever their thinking was, it worked in Clarks and Otto's favor.

The keys were still in his pocket. Troy unlocked the doors and examined the inside to double check. Nothing was out of place.

"So," he said, satisfied and unperturbed, "what's the plan? We uncover her and drive her on up or we shut her down and go make nice-nice with the neighbors?"

Nick pondered. "I'd drive it there first and then see if they come. But if we wanna be cautious, we should watch them first. Without it, we can't really know if they're okay or not. By the way, is that cabin we found really Jake's? I haven't seen any eighty-eight on it."

As Troy unlocked the doors, Alicia went in search of one of the water bottles she knew was still stowed under the seats. She took a sip once she found it, then another, before she offered the bottle to the other two.

A mild frown of contemplation crept onto her face at Nick's question. It hadn't even occurred to her to look for the number to make sure they were at the right place. Stupidly, Alicia had just assumed. Though now she thought if it, the cabin, had a distinct non-Jake feeling about it. It was much more likely it had belonged to the couple Troy had disposed of. "It's not, is it?" she asked, looking to Troy for confirmation on this one.

_And when they do come, and they're armed, then what?_  Troy took the offered water and took a deep sip before extending it to Nick.

"No, it's not. I assumed it belonged to that couple. But we can still find his. And we can move."

He shifted away from the jeep, giving the isolated road a comb over, gaze fixated on the distance where he knew the trailers and a probable threat was.

"You two take the car and I'll make my way to the trailers. I'll see how many follow you two and what their intentions are."

"It's unknown territory and people," Nick reasoned. "Splitting is not the best idea. Whatever you will see won't help anyone if you're not gonna get to us ahead of them. Or if you start a shooting. Come with us, and we'll meet whatever comes together."

Safety in numbers. It had been a ranch-protocol, one Alicia'd experienced wasn't necessarily true when it came to the walking dead, but with the living it was probably more accurate. She looked between the two, gauging Troy's reaction to Nick's suggestion and held out her hand for the keys. With her driving it'd leave both boys free to shoot should the need arise, and she knew they were both better shots than she was.

First Nick chided Troy about babying him, and then he did the very same thing to Troy as if he feared — every moment of every second — that Troy was a loon with a trigger-happy finger. Troy admitted that only a couple of weeks ago there had been a reason, that in the past there were issues and causes to justify that, and that there still could be, but he wasn't looking to kill anyone here. It was strictly intended recon.

Was it that Nick didn't trust him? That he was keeping Troy close at hand like some sacrificial lamb to keep his crazy from spilling like Jake had tried to do for most of his sorry life?

Neither was wrong, Troy could admit that, but it didn't mean he liked or appreciated it.

He handed the keys to Alicia, cleared the wheels of any obstructions, and climbed into the back.

Troy's reaction flashed on his face, he didn't even have to voice anything. Nick could relate, but Troy was safer with them, as well as each of them. Even something as deceptively safe as investigating places could turn into a suicide when the wrong people were involved.

Nick claimed the shotgun seat, closed the door, then took the map.

"Is this really the only highway leading to the lake? If there would be another one to let us come from the opposite direction..."

Alicia got in the driver's seat and started the car, pulling onto the dirt road ahead and towards their temporary cabin. "It's the only one Jake told me about. Otherwise it would mean I'd have to extend my journey for a few hours by driving up and around." Alicia glanced at Nick and the map in his lap. "But there could be others."

Nick frowned, trying to estimate the distance. It didn't look good, but not too bad, either.

"Here's this Thomas Mountain road," he said, showing it to Alicia, trailing his finger along it. "It's a ninety-degree detour from this highway we're on right now. We ride along that road for a mile or so, then turn toward the lake before this mountain comes to our right. We're far enough from the trailers, and there's not too many trees to worry about the car. It's better than driving past the camping ground and alerting them before we're ready."

Nick's strategy didn't surprise Troy. Clark was pretty logical when he wanted to be. And Troy agreed with it. Happy that they weren't going to be riding alongside the trailers like they were just normal campers passing through to get to their own place.

In reality it would never be that way, and nor could it be. Not now. Not here.

He sat in the back and listened to the two discuss things for a while, feeling no inclination to add his own input since in reality, he was the trigger guy and already searching any movement on the roads. Anything that looked even a touch threatening.

Alicia threw a few more glances at the map as Nick plied her with information, slowing the car ever so slightly until she had inspected what she needed to.

"Okay. Remind me when it's time to turn off this road," Alicia turned her attention back on the car itself and the road ahead. She checked the rear view mirror with frequent intervals just to make sure no one was following, though she suspected Troy had an eye out as well and felt safer knowing that.

Nick folded the map and tossed it on the dashboard. There was nothing there they would need now that they knew how to do it.

The turn was pretty obvious, and he didn't need to point at it when Alicia was already on it herself. They followed it until the mountain was before them, then turned sideways, leaving it on the left as they went toward the lake, skirting around the rare trees. After a bit, they could see the house they had been occupying.

"We can park there and go to search for Jake's cabin on foot," Nick suggested.

The drive wasn't long until they reached the cabin, and like their walk — there were no bodies in sight or dead — like this place was carved out into a dead zone.

No wonder Jake wanted to come here.

From what Troy could tell, that land wasn't too destroyed, either, and there were bits you could table to make spots for vegetables or fruit, or even a horse pen. There were more than enough trees for all that. The nails, wire or rope to keep it all together would be the thing to search for.

Troy wondered why Jake didn't come sooner. Why he'd presented the idea and didn't just come despite Alicia's insistence to stay. Was it that he loved her so much that he didn't like the idea of leaving her to struggle with her family alone or another reason?

Alicia parked the car per Nick's suggestion, and pulled the keys from the ignition, reaching back over her shoulder to give them to Troy. It felt like his car more than hers or Nick's.

"Yeah, we should definitely see if we can find it. Jake said there would be supplies, and this cabin has none. Whether we stay here or there we can figure out once we know what we're dealing with."

She got out and stretched, closing the door behind her and listening for any sounds coming from the garage, trying to gauge whether the horse had settled down or not.

"We should give him a name," she murmured absentmindedly. "The horse, I mean. If we're gonna keep him, he might as well have a name."

"Be my guest, I'm not good with names." Nick closed the door as quietly as he could and surveyed the area. "I guess we should keep the lake to the right and the mountain to the left as we go. Jake's cabin can't be too far."

"You don't like Fido?" Troy asked as he got out, and closed the door behind him lightly. "You want to check on him and take him with us for the walk or are we going to just leave him in there for a bit and see what happens?"

"Fido is a dog's name," Alicia said. "And he had such a tragic fate. If we are to be the horse's new owners I'd rather not jinx it and have history repeat itself."

"Fair enough." Troy let them decide between themselves what they wanted to do with the horse, and jogged toward the cabin.

She moved towards the garage. "I'll check on him, but we shouldn't take him with us. I'll take him for a walk when we get back. Got any bags we can bring in case we find something of use?"

"He can't be locked up all the time, guys," Nick reasoned. "You wouldn't even let him pee this morning. Let him come. Or he might freak out and start banging at the door."

Alicia sighed, stopping in her stride to consider her brother. "And if we run into danger?"

Everything seemed like such a high risk when there was an innocent animal at stake, and already now she could feel herself tensing up at the thought of him getting hurt.

She didn't wait for an answer, assuming her concern would go unheard, anyway. She opened the garage and waited for the horse to approach, stroking his muzzle before starting on her way back, allowing him to follow at will.

Troy dumped the clothes from one of the suitcases the unfortunate couple had packed, and headed back out. "Are we going?"

"Guess so," Alicia said.

They went, steering between the trees, setting their course between the lake and the mountain. They formed a chain of three, keeping each other in the field of side-vision and covering more ground. The horse was following at his own pace, grabbing a bite of grass here and there as he went. There were no dead around, which was eerie to Nick. He didn't think it was possible to have such a vast piece of land without any. He didn't trust it.

Troy walked with one hand closed around the handle of his gun, untrusting of the serenity and the fact that they hadn't seen or heard any of the people they knew were in the area. On its best days, even while they kept things cleared and quiet around the ranch, it had never been this quiet or peaceful. There was always dead or drama out there somewhere. Always. Nothing was left untouched or without stain.

Unless, despite its former popularity, this place wasn't on anyone's radar. Or any radar, for that matter.

Troy stooped and tucked the suitcase under his arm, briefly breaking his concentration on their surroundings to poke the index finger from his free hand into the soil. The sand wasn't loose, but it was malleable, and with a bit of extra work and water it could probably grow something edible. He dropped the dirt back onto the ground and grabbed a handful of grass, sporadically feeding it to the horse as they walked, shaking off the rest before reclaiming the handle on the suitcase, passing first one cabin with the number sixty-four and then a few minutes later another labelled sixty-six. None seemed occupied from a distance, but he wasn't going to put any faith into that.

Even the place that they'd holed up in didn't look taken.

They happened upon eighty-eight thirty minutes later. It was closer to the lake, had its own pier from what Troy could tell, and was surrounded by an assortment of cars that almost looked as if they were a barricade.

There wasn't any dead around, and he didn't see old blood caked in the dirt. So, what – and who – were they trying to keep out with such shitty craftsmanship?

"Do we knock?"

Jake's cabin looked far more luxurious to Alicia than their current one. At least from the outside. But it didn't look entirely uninhabited. Question was: were the people in there alive or dead?

She squinted against the sun as they observed the cabin, pondering. "It's either that or throwing rocks."

The sight of the cars barricaded in a semi-circle around the cabin inspired a wary chill. There was not a sound coming from the house itself, but it only made the vibes scarier.

Nick started up the porch stairs to do what Troy suggested.

"Get out of here if you want to live," a male voice said from behind the door. "I'll shootcha."

Nick froze, eyeing the door and the windows. It was surreal, like he misheard something. Or it was all in his head. He darted a look at Troy behind him to see if he heard the same.

Given the stark silence it was hard not to hear the threat or to respond – even if Troy didn't outright see the culprit – which he did by automatically dropping the suitcase and grabbing Nick's shoulder to get him moving so that he could drop down to one knee next to Troy behind the shield of cars.

Like Nick, Alicia instinctively froze on the spot at the sound of a man's voice calling out threats, and as Troy pulled her brother away lowered to her haunches behind the nearest car. She threw a glance back over her shoulder to check on the horse. It was still grazing peacefully a short distance away and didn't seem to be bothered by the shouting match that ensued.

"We come in peace!" Troy yelled, though, in reality it sounded more like 'we'll shoot back!'

"I want no trouble! I don't suggest you come any closer!"

Before Troy could comprehend another threat, there was a pop and then a mild rush of noise as something close to the house exploded in a fine mist of black smoke, leaving behind a small wick of flame and a charred box. It wasn't enough to hurt anyone from where they were, but it was enough to make a point.

"That was jus' a warnin'. The rest is spread throughout 'em cars waitin' on my finger!"

The horse took off running in the direction they had come from. Alicia cursed under her breath, worrying she might not be able to find him again.

"This is my cabin!" Troy decided, trying at least to be reasonable, frowning when for a time, there appeared to be silence, and then he'd returned, and being careful not to reveal himself in the windows.

"Bullshit! It ain't!"

_Well, he has me there_ , Troy thought.

He glanced between the two and snapped off the safety on the gun, giving the both of them a 'well, I tried' look.

"Don't!" Alicia hissed in warning, praying he wouldn't go on some rampage to 'defend his land'. This was a nice place but it wasn't worth killing over. Or dying for. "Alright," she called, slowly getting to her feet, hands open and raised to show she didn't mean any harm. She wasn't in direct view of the windows, but whoever was inside could probably catch a glimpse. "We'll leave. This used to be his brother's place. We thought it might be safe."

Information offered only to appease and to test what kind of person they were dealing with. She backtracked a little, out of reach from the windows, hands still raised, eyeing Troy and Nick on the ground some twenty feet away.

"We don't need another war," she reminded them, certain her brother would agree. Troy… he was anyone's guess.

Alicia beat Nick to the warning for Troy when he saw him readying an attack or something similar. Nick could relate to the sentiment of his brother's place being held by someone else. But it didn't change the fact that they needed no more shootings and killing, be it a house, some land, or a bag of groceries.

Alicia's doggedness didn't go unnoticed, but it wasn't as effective as her brother's hand on Troy's shoulder, squeezing as though he was trying to pull the trigger on Troy or at least silence it.

"What's yer name, ye brother?" the man from the house asked.

"His name's Troy Otto," Nick called, his hand on the said brother's shoulder to ensure he stayed down and not ran forth shooting at the door. "It's his brother Jake's cabin."

There was a long silence, then some metal latches inside switched, and the door opened, revealing a man of around sixty with a hunting shotgun. He looked both wary and worried. "Where's Jake?"

When Troy heard the door open and the man enquire about Jake, he shook off Nick's hand and stood to join Alicia who was pretty much waving her white flag. Troy gauged the man's threat level, his concern, a look that was familiar but unfamiliarly directed at him.

Troy slipped the safety back on and felt the tension from the two beside him drain like that dam they'd run from.

"He died," Troy supplied.

A look of grief flashed across the man's face. "That's a darn shame. He was a good upstanding youngin'."

Troy gave a nod of agreement and actually meant it. Jake was good, and he did deserve better than he got.

The man peered between the three of them, and then slowly started down the porch steps, his gun limp at his side, his right foot dragging slightly as if he'd hurt himself or was suffering the onset of arthritic knees.

Who knew with old people, right?

Alicia did breathe a little easier when Troy put his gun away, and even more so when the elderly man approached them with kindness, his own weapon no longer pointed their way.

"You dun' look like him," the old man stated, not as an accusation or out of malice, but as an observation.

"He was my half-brother."

"He neva spoke much of his family and I only ever saw him with those college friends of his. He ever marry that gal? Uhh… the brunette, the glasses—"

It took Troy a second to get over the casualness of this conversation, especially since a minute ago he'd been contemplating riddling both the man and the cabin with bullets.

"No. If you're referring to Qwen – she died."

The man's face scrunched up with distaste and he shook his head gently. "No one's safe anymore."

"Actually," Troy retorted, more so out of his appreciation of facts and relevance, "she died in a car accident before the dead started taking over."

The man frowned and appeared to study him.

Now, that was a look Troy knew. The one most people fixed him with when they tried to figure the youngest Otto out.

Troy smiled slightly, politeness he'd used on Madison, Alicia and various other people. Like a mask. The man studied him and then veered his attention to Nick and Alicia, visibly more relaxed with what he saw there.

"Wouldja like to come in?"

It was made clear during the brief conversation the two exchanged that the man had known Jake. At least somewhat. And that made Alicia feel a whole lot better about this situation.

"Sure," she said in response to the man's offer, giving him a smile. "Um, let me just go check on our horse first. He kind of ran off during all the… commotion."

"Ye have a horse?" the man raised his eyebrows. "Ye dragged it all the way here from that farm?"

"No, we found him on our way," Nick said, looking after Alicia as she strode away. "He was scared, and we took him with us."

"Well, there's no barn to keep 'em, but east from here there's… eh… Garner Ranch. They still keep cattle. Good people. Unlike those campers sons a' bitches, pardon my French."

He turned and started back to the cabin muttering something about no respect for property in today's youth.

Troy slipped the gun into the waistband of his pants and gestured for Nick to go ahead, following Alicia with his eyes as she went in search of the horse. He didn't watch her long before he eased between the cars and trailed after the two, pausing to inspect the box that had blown as a warning.

"It's a homemade smoke bomb," the man pointed out when he saw Troy taking interest.

"Effective," Troy supplied, respecting the old man's ingenuity. He continued on inside and gestured for the youth to follow. Unlike the metallic barricade on the outside, the inside was more home than warzone.

"You want a coffee?" the man offered, further adding to the surrealism.

Troy glanced at Nick to make sure he'd heard correctly, and then nodded slowly. "Sure."

"Help yerself. Unfortunately, I don' have any milk. If you like sugar tho'…"

Troy opened his mouth to say thank you, and then snapped it closed again like he suddenly thought better of it. He glanced around the open plan living room and kitchen, much like the cabin they'd stayed in the night before, only bigger. There were wooden chairs with solid brown cushions, wood stacked in the corner of the room next to the fireplace for convenience, a table laden with more boxes and ingredients you wouldn't know were used for bombs unless you actually made them.

Where'd he even get those supplies?

Not that they were hard to come by.

Troy didn't see any guns but he assumed those where upstairs somewhere out of sight and out of mind.

"Are you living alone?" he asked.

The old man smiled slightly but didn't say anything.

"Should we wait for the youn' gal to join us or would you like to get to the point of yer bein' here?"

Troy arched a brow, shared another look with Nick, and waited for the man to continue.

"Ye wan' the cabin, right? That's why yer here?"

* * *

Alicia found the horse a good ten minutes later, in between the trees of the forest they had worked their way through earlier. The horse was pawing at the ground, moving fallen leaves aside to get to the vegetation beneath. It startled a little as she approached but didn't run, and it wasn't long until it allowed her to pet it. She took hold of his halter and led the animal back towards Jake's cabin, releasing it once the line of cars came into view. It went back to grazing the same patch it'd occupied before the explosion, and she left it there to go find Nick and Troy.

* * *

"We came here to check on it," Nick said, unsure why he should answer any of it when it was none of his business or brother. "But even if we stay awhile, it doesn't mean you have to leave, sir."

"Henry," the man said. "Name's Henry Jervis. And that's very kind, but I only sat here to make sure no bastard did."

"Looks like you did a good job of that," Troy stated, walking over the dinner table to get a closer look at the ingredients and items that were laid on it.

Henry followed him with his eyes, unconcerned, and then moved toward the kitchen to turn on the stove. It was gas but could easily be converted to a wood stove.

"How long have you been staying here?" Troy asked.

"A couple of months. I had my own spot close to the lake – down at the trailers, by the bait shop – but ever since them young thugs came in, it's been rowdy and threatnin' and harassin'."

"And they don't bother you here?"

"They tried. Multiple times. But after my smoke shows and a bullet in the leg of one of 'em bastards, I predict their thought is that I'm goin' to kick it and they'll takeover."

"Surely this isn't the only good cabin out here?"

"It's spacious, access right next to the lake…"

_Right. Water._

"But they have that at the trailers, too."

"True but those metal boxes ain't made for all year round and winter can be tough."

Troy guessed it made sense. Or maybe as a group the trailer people just felt compelled and like they owned everything. That they were strong enough to take it.

"Is your lady friend okay out there on her own?" Henry asked, walking toward the kitchen, glancing between the two boys, his eyes briefly darting to the door as if expecting to see her at any moment.

There was no one outside, anymore, so Alicia assumed the three men had made their way into the cabin. She gingerly stepped around the cars, a little wary she might set off some new explosions that weren't rigged to go off by remote control. Who knew what kind of other defense systems that old man had put up?

She managed to get to the door without incident and knocked politely before poking her head inside, emerging fully when she saw them all gathered in the open-plan living room and kitchen. She gave a small smile to their host, automatically seeking out Nick and moving to stand beside him, her gaze wandering the interior of the cabin.

"Yep, she's fine," Nick said as Alicia came in.

The cabin didn't give off that Jake-vibe she had expected, but the old man and Troy's earlier conversation had reminded her she probably didn't even know who Jake truly was. They'd never spoken of past boyfriends and girlfriends. They'd hardly exchanged information about the past at all, most of their conversations centered on the future of the ranch and what needed to be done.

She felt a pang of regret for not grieving him like she should have. He deserved better than what she had given him.

"Horse is fine," she told them, fixing the man with another polite smile as he shuffled around the kitchen. "I'm Alicia."

"I'm Henry, young miss," the man said, smiling, and waved a hand to the chairs. "Take a seat, we'll see about some coffee."

He shot a glance between Nick and Troy before he reached for a coffee tin.

"So, yer Troy Otto, and she's Alicia, and you are…"

"Nick," he replied. "Alicia's brother. We're friends of the Otto family, lived at the ranch for a while."

He exchanged glances with Troy as Henry turned his back to him.

"What happened to Jake? And, I assume, the ranch? If ye don' mind my askin'."

"A massive horde of the dead happened upon the ranch and my brother got caught in the crossfire trying to defend it," Troy said. A simple explanation that was fairly close to the truth.

"Ye make it sound like war."

"It is. Especially out there."

Henry nodded and set out four metal cups, filling each of them with a spoon of coffee.

"Do you take sugar, miss? Nick? Troy?"

"I'll take three," Troy said.

Henry set aside the coffee and added the three scoops specified, waiting on the other two's wishes.

"No sugar, thanks," Alicia responded, surprised and pleased by the offer of coffee. She missed coffee. A lot.

Nick shook his head a no, as well.

"Do you get much dead out here?" Troy asked.

"A few. But they're typically old residents that have either been trapped in their cabins or accidentally set free by that lot at the lake during their huntin'."

"You don't kill them?"

"I never need to," he supplied, stepping away from the mugs to check on the kettle, to add more water to the metal camping jug and to add it to the gas stove to heat up. "Are you hungry, Nick?" he asked, regarding Clark with a knowing eye, his attention shifting between the three of them as he walked over to a basket in the corner filled with a mixture of red and green apples.

"Yeah, actually, I am," Nick reacted and caught an apple as Henry tossed it at him.

Neither Troy nor Nick looked like they intended to sit at Henry's request, but Alicia did, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table and watching as he shuffled to his collection of apples.

"You know those people by the lake?" Alicia asked, trying not to look all that eager at the prospect of fresh fruit.

"Yeah, I've been tellin' the guys what kind of bastards those are," Henry said to Alicia, handing her the coffee. "They're bad news. Want to get their hands on everythin', cabins, the ranch cattle. The ranch guys shot one of 'em as they tried to steal a cow."

"How many of them are there?"

"Far 's I can tell… ten, fifteen. Seems as some either decided to leave or ran into some trouble. I haven't needed to venture down there in a while to check on 'em."

After handing out an apple to each of them, Henry returned to the water, checked it and steadily began to pour it into each mug, filling them generously. When done, he handed them out and joined Alicia at the table.

That was disconcerting. If they'd been giving everyone else in the area trouble, Alicia doubted they would choose not to do the same with the three of them. She looked between Nick and Troy to see if they had any thoughts on the matter, but neither's face betrayed much of what they were feeling at current.

Troy didn't sit with them, choosing to stand between the living room and the kitchen, studying the room a bit more, recognizing a few things that belonged to Jake's mother and a lot that screamed Jake.

There was no Jeremiah here. No Troy. Not even a picture.

Troy ate his apple quickly, setting the stem aside on the counter, sipping at his coffee.

"How long have you kids been here?"

"Just since last night," Alicia said, pulling her cup of coffee closer before biting into her apple. It tasted heavenly, making her mouth tingle and her stomach contract with hunger before she could even start chewing. "Became hard to find our way in the dark."

"I see," Henry said, sipping his coffee, eyeing them in turn. "If ye plan on stayin', the cabin's good. But on the long run, I suggest ye introduce yerselves to the ranch people. They good people, and friends are needed most these days. If ye take yer horse to 'em, it's a nice start."

Nick finished his apple and drank his coffee, enjoying the bitter heat of it. It was stupidly comforting, like another day in normal world. Like nothing outside the door mattered.

"If you know them, wouldn't they take you in?" he asked.

"They offered," Henry said and shrugged with a melancholic smile. "I just wanted to keep this safe. 'T was my job, I was gonna see it through. So I did. Darn shame Jake hasn't." He raised his mug: "To Jake. He was a good fella. Darn shame. Darn shame, indeed."

Troy raised his coffee mug in honor of his brother and smiled genuinely.

They drank.

People always spoke well of Jake — most people aside from Madison — but for the first time that fact didn't annoy Troy or prick at his former resentment. It was different now. Jake couldn't be better than him, he couldn't judge his little brother, and he couldn't judge anything, period.

He was gone. A  _memory_.

Alicia didn't raise her mug like Henry and Troy did, but she drank, averting her gaze from the old, sweet man's scrutinizing eyes. Troy didn't seem affected by talk of his brother in the least. She wondered how he did it, if it was a front meant to fool them all, or if it genuinely didn't matter to him.

If what happened to Jake had happened to Nick, she would be broken, and she imagined even the mention of his name would send her into some comatose state of grief and render her useless.

Troy blew on the coffee to cool it and sipped at it again, drinking it slowly, continuously while they spoke.

"Anyone for another apple?" Henry asked.

Troy rose a hand and walked over to the basket to help himself.

"They from the ranch."

Troy could believe it and a part of him envied it. He picked up one for himself and another, gesturing at the three, waiting to see if anyone else needed another.

Alicia shook her head at the offer of another apple, still working on her first one.

"How long are ye plannin' on stayin'?" Henry asked.

"Indefinitely," Troy supplied.

"So, is that where you'll go?" Alicia asked Henry. "The ranch?"

Was it even safe for him to get over there on his own? He wasn't all that sprightly.

"If ye insist I leave – yeah, I'd go there, I guess," he said. "But before winter comes, this house's fine to be. Whatcha gonna do with yer horse, though, fellas?"

Nick glanced at Alicia, somehow thinking it was her decision mostly. He didn't view himself as the horse's master.

"It'd be nice to find him a place to stay," he said. "But, given the trailer people, I guess we need you to introduce us, Henry. If it's possible."

"Sure thing it is," he nodded. "Better to make a loop around the other side of the lake. They'll want yer horse for eatin'."

"Then we should take him now," Troy said. "Before the day's end. Even if we brought the jeep around in a way we hope is quiet, people like that will sniff out new meat and he is a literal sitting duck out there."

He glanced out the front door in search of the horse and found it grazing somewhere off to the side.

"We can do that," the old man added, almost jolly. He eased off his chair and set aside his unfinished coffee. "I could do with a few more eggs anyway. Especially with guests."

He winked and ambled out of the kitchen, walking over to a hall closet that held a couple of winter jackets, winter boots, a fishing rod and a hunting rifle. He shrugged into a jacket and then slung the rifle over his shoulder, slipping a few more bullets into his pockets.

For someone who'd met them less than thirty minutes ago, he was very trusting.

"Shall we?"

Alicia finished her coffee and apple, but kept the core as well as Troy's discarded ones. The horse would like it.

"And you're sure they'll treat him right at this ranch?"

She had to ask. Horses were great and could be used for farm-work, but they wouldn't provide its people with eggs like the chickens or milk like the cows. And they needed a lot of food. That could be draining on a farmstead if they didn't have enough resources.

"They have horses there," Henry told her as they walked out.

Outside, she coaxed the horse to her and fed him what remained of the apples, resting her forehead against his as he chewed happily, slobbering over the flat of her palm. She knew it was for the best, and yet it felt oddly similar to the time they had to give up their family dog, Bob, when she was seven due to Dad's allergies.

Henry smiled watching Alicia feed the horse the apple cores. "It's the right thing, before those bastards find out ye have a horse. And ye got nowhere to put 'em here. It's the right thing to give 'em proper home."

He started walking, Troy and Nick followed. It was going to be a long walk – circling around the lake to avoid the trailers area. Nick wasn't sure they would make it back here before dark, but didn't say anything. The old man was right, the horse needed his place for the night, and they had nowhere to put him.

Henry closed the cabin door behind them but didn't lock it, Troy noticed.

"Aren't you worried they'll find out you're not here and take your shit?" he asked.

"My shit?" Henry repeated, smiling, amused by what Troy assumed was viewed as a swear word in his eyes. "No. They not that brave. They bullies. Besides…"

He pointed to the earth, to mole hills one wouldn't notice at first glance. Troy paused and looked around them, noticing that they were everywhere and that it was absolute miracle they hadn't stepped on any.

"Landmines. In theory. Homemade. They don' have enough juice to blow yer foot off or even a leg, heaven forbid, but it's enough of a deterrent if they ever decide to take the risk with the cars."

The more Troy got to know this old geezer, the more impressed he became.

Alicia instantly became more cautious after Henry pointed out more of his homemade defense systems, taking hold of the horse's halter to steer him around those potential traps. She didn't want him running off again.

"I'll let ye in on a secret," Henry said, lowering his voice to a whisper, pretending only to speak to Alicia as he swayed toward her slightly. "Most of them are just duds."

Troy laughed lightly.

"Did you serve in the war before?" he asked as Henry led them around.

"In the sixties, sure, we all did. It was mandated unless ye were fortunate enough to have a family member in a high position or were sick enough to cope out. I was neither."

"You worked explosives?"

"Artillery. You learn a lot in the dregs. And on google."

Before the internet crashed, along with power and everything else that kept them connected to the rest of the world, Troy'd been an avid user of the information highway himself. There was a lot to learn. A pity there was no way to reach it now as he was eager to read other people's take and studies on what was happening.

Alicia noticed Troy was good at that - making people talk without really giving much of himself in return.

She looked to Nick at her side, her voice low so to not disturb the two up front. "Think we'll be able to stay a while without starting a war with the people in the campers?"

She knew that Nick, like her, was not eager to get into another turf-war. That had been Mom's thing, not theirs.

Nick heaved a sigh, looking down under his feet as they walked, partially listening to Troy and Henry converse.

"You wanna stay here?" he asked, turning to gauge her expression.

"I don't know," she confessed, pausing briefly to tug the horse's head away from a new patch of juicy grass he'd just spotted. "It would be nice to have a few days to… wind down." She had no better word for it. But they all knew constant travelling was draining, and she often felt future plans were made more sensibly when they weren't under pressure. "But as a long-term thing, I don't know."

Nick nodded, looking ahead at Troy and Henry's backs.

"Frankly, it doesn't look good here," he shared. "It's like the ranch. There are good guys and there are bad guys who don't wanna leave. And they shoot at each other whenever they get a chance. Long term - we're in the same pit as we have been back with Jeremiah. It's a great spot here, and these trailer guys won't leave for as long as they think they can win it."

"I know," she agreed. "I'm not going back to another ranch-situation. I can't. I don't know what Troy is expecting from this but…" She shook her head, glancing up at her brother. "It's what Mom always tries to do, and it never works."

"I've no free spots for new guilt left to carry," Nick said honestly. "This won't work for us. If we want to come unscathed, we'll need to leave. Before another battle breaks out."

They were in agreement, then. Now it just depended on whether Troy would see things their way or if he would prefer a battle with the lake-people.

They walked in silence for a while, her mind occupied with thoughts of the ranch and everything that had happened there.

"You feel guilty about Jeremiah?" They hadn't really talked about it in depth when it first happened. Alicia had only revealed she knew, and Nick had expressed some guilt about having 'taken' Troy's father from him. But she wondered if he regretted the act itself.

Nick winced subtly. It wasn't his favorite topic. They had so many of those in the last two days, it seemed like some neverending confession round at Sunday church.

"It coulda been avoided," he admitted. "I could've let mom do it. I could've just left with Luciana and none of it woulda been on me personally, but I couldn't leave and that was final. Yeah, I regret that it happened that way. That we took sides and drastic measures. I do feel guilt. It wasn't my place to take his life. And I do feel guilt for how easy it was. For how easy I made it. He seemed like a different man at first, and then all this ugliness came pouring out, and it made it easier. But I'll always hate myself for it."

Alicia could understand that. She hadn't liked Jeremiah by the end, either, but she was grateful she had not been part of his death. Killing could never truly be a good thing, and both she and Nick had learned that the hard way.

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the ground to avoid staring. Having eyes on you while confessing something difficult never helped.

"Do you think Mom feels guilty for the things she's done?"

She really wanted her to. Alicia wanted her to be capable of that human emotion, even when Madison was under the assumption everything she'd done was for the greater good. Nick and Alicia's greater good. But Alicia wondered sometimes if Madison was able.

Nick swallowed, reluctant to think about it. He hadn't indulged in that. He was afraid to.

"Remember she told us that story about her father and what she did?" He looked at her. "The whole point was to insist she had to. That someone had to, and it was her because her mother wouldn't save herself. She told us how she would love to indulge in feelings but then someone has to be strong to do what's necessary.

"I think whenever she decided that something has to be done, she doesn't let the guilt through."

"Yeah," Alicia whispered. "It scares me."

It made her doubt whether she'd ever be able to live side by side with their mother again. It almost made Alicia wish she didn't love Mom so much. Because surely things would have been easier then. But there was nothing to do about that. Madison was her mother,  _their_ mother, no matter what. Things had been good once.

Long ago.


	10. Chapter 10

**RIVER FLOWS NORTH — PART 8**

Troy walked alongside Henry, pulling away from the siblings, talking about what dead he'd seen, what he knew about the area, what he knew about the group at the trailers and if they'd scavenged other areas and where the lake's water supply came from and how long he thought it would last.

Henry didn't seem to see his questions as prying and good-naturedly answered them one by one. Information Otto stored for later use.

After a while, and when the path became a tad trickier, the conversation drifted and Troy was able to bestow Nick and Alicia with consideration again. From the look on both their faces, they'd had another talk.

Why did they keep doing that to themselves? Why couldn't they just let go?

When they reached the outskirts of the ranch, Henry gestured for the youth to stay back, to let him go ahead for a second and to wait. He didn't want to spook his friends by having all four of them all come up on them without warning.

Troy gave a nod and watched him walk across an expanse of grass that was green and lush in places, a far cry from the near-desert surroundings that had covered the ranch.

There was fencing, doubled up with the usual, a truck Troy knew used to carry feed as they'd used a lot of the same brand, and a couple of added trailer homes set out beside another house. The set up was crude but from what Troy could tell – it looked structured. At least in part. He could see a couple of weaknesses here and there.

He averted his gaze and fixated on the two beside him.

"You sure you really want to give Fido away?"

Nick shrugged and glanced to Alicia. "If it's best for him, if there's food and shelter, then he's better off there. All we can offer is a nomad lifestyle and all that comes with it – no consistency."

"Nick's right," Alicia said, watching Henry's disappearing from view as he rounded what appeared to be the main house. "We can't properly care for him. And we'd always have to worry."

The horse tugged out of her grasp to pick at the grass at their feet.

" _I'd_  worry," she amended, not automatically assuming the same went for Troy. Though he had shown some uncharacteristic consideration for the creature since they found it. "It's for the best."

Whatever plans Troy'd had about using the horse as an anchor to stay in a certain place for a few days or even weeks fell through, but maybe that was okay?

Maybe the horse wasn't needed.

They'd been walking for almost forty minutes or so and hadn't come upon any dead.

Henry spoke to the man at the entrance, gestured to the group — probably the horse — repeating whatever he was saying to another woman who'd joined, and then eventually signaled for the three to go over.

"Looks like we're being summoned," Troy muttered, starting ahead of the two, prepared to take whatever hits might come, smiling as they approached.

"This is Troy, Alicia and her brother Nick," Henry said, introducing them to the couple. Mother and son, if the resemblance was anything to go by.

"If you'd be so kind as to give your weapons to my son, you're free to come in."

Nick exchanged looks with Alicia. It resembled Otto's ranch, painfully so. But it was a logical request. Anyone who'd been at this survival awhile would have that code at their home.

He pulled his knife out of the sheath and held it out, handle to them. The young guy took it, the woman smiled a little.

"My name's Rosemary, and this is Cole," she introduced. "We're glad to see new friendly faces. We haven't been that lucky lately. My husband George and a few others should return soon with the cattle. We shall see about your horse then, if that's all right? Meanwhile, there's some tea and a pie."

Alicia was always hesitant to give up her weapons, but she understood the need for their request. Mutual trust was needed if they were going to work together. And, because of the horse, she supposed, in a way, they would be.

She reached into her boot to grab her knife, handing it over to Cole after Nick did, and met Rosemary's gaze with a small smile.

"That'd be great. Thank you. Is there anywhere I can put him while we wait?" She gestured to the horse at her side.

"One of the paddocks is available," Cole said. "I can take him there. Get him some hay and water."

He looked to his mother rather than Alicia for confirmation. Rosemary gave a nod of approval, and Cole moved to take the horse off Alicia's hands as the woman gestured for them to follow her.

Henry made no move to give off his own rifle so Troy assumed the weapon exchange was a mere show meant for them three.

He got it. They had the power, this was their home and they dictated it as so.

He removed the gun from his waist and handed it over. Cole gathered them to his chest and then handed them over to someone else who'd come to join the party.

They smiled but didn't introduce themselves, moving to set the collected weapons in a bucket resting upon a hay bale that outlined the perimeter as extra defense or provided post seating.

Whatever it was, in part Troy almost wished he'd thought of it. But hay wasn't easy to come by where they were.

While they walked toward the main house, Rosemary told them they had a few families living on the ranch now, including the original founding family members, which she was a part of. She shared that the new group in the trailers by the lake had arrived about three weeks ago and had been disrespectful to any property or boundaries, attempting to steal their cattle and shooting two of their cows in the process. There was no debating with those people, for they believed the current state of the world gave them freedom to do as they pleased and take whatever there was that they deem up for the taking, no ownership questioned. Henry had been the ranchers' friend, and they would be taking him in if he decided to move from the cabin.

"Will you be living in that cabin now?" Cole asked as they all sat at their big table sipping hot tea. "I mean, you came for it, right? That gang's gonna be a pain, though. Just sayin."

"They ain't goin' to leave, I foresee that much," Henry agreed, chewing on his cake.

"We came here because Jake believed it would be safe," Alicia revealed, cradling her cup with both hands. "He was planning to come here himself, but… things got in the way."

Rosemary continued to cut the apple pie after giving Henry the first portion, carefully scooping out pieces on plates and making Cole hand them out. Alicia didn't immediately dig into hers, even if it was damn tempting. This was another rare treat. Last one in a while, she reckoned, so she wanted it to last.

"We haven't really decided what to do yet. Couldn't make any solid decisions before we saw the cabin itself. Might not have been habitable after all this time."

She exchanged a look with Nick, choosing not to divulge that both of them were reluctant to stay with a dangerous mob so close by. They hadn't discussed it with Troy yet, and this wouldn't be the best platform to start.

Troy took the pie as it was offered to him, considering, and set it down in front of him, waiting until her son tucked in before helping himself to a bite.

"Had I not stuck around as I did, I don't believe that it would be," Henry said. "Those ruffians are dismantling that place cabin by cabin and soon there will be nothing for them to take and they'll simply burn it down."

Troy couldn't see that as a smart move because even without food, four walls and a roof over your head was enticement enough to want to stick around and make it work. Especially in an area where the dead hadn't taken over.

"What about the lake? Does it have fish?" he asked.

"A lot. Rosemary and I have a deal in place. I provide her with fish as often as I deem necessary and she gives me either eggs or whatever else she can spare to keep me going for the week."

Before he could extend them the deal or ask to take over were they to claim the cabin, Rosemary interjected, "How's the pie?"

"It's magnificent," Nick praised honestly, and took a sip of tea to wash it down. "It's been forever and a day since we had a pie, especially one so good. Thank you."

She beamed. "I'm glad you like it. The season's been generous with apples."

"Ye have the best pie in the county," Henry said. "And the best cider."

"Oh, almost forgot," Rosemary said, getting up, and walked out. She returned in a minute with three huge bottles filled with dark yellow liquid. Nick assumed it was the cider. "Since now you're with guests," she said, setting the bottles on the table before Henry.

"Gosh, thank you, Rosy," Henry grinned. "I'm almost through the one from last week."

They sat for another hour while waiting for her husband and company to come back from the fields. Rosemary expressed her concern about everyone who was stuck out there in the world surviving while they thanked God every day for their home and the things they had.

When George came back, they were introduced to him, their elder son Matthew and the head of another family residing here, Clayton.

George was extremely pleased with the horse after the check-up of his teeth and state. He said the steed was about four years old and good for breeding and cowboy duties.

"A horse's a perfect asset to a ranch," George said, stroking the animal's neck. "And this one's in good shape. A bit thinner, but that's fixable. If you mean to give him to us, that means we going to be friends." He grinned at them. "If you stay around in the cabin, need any help – you're always welcome in our house. And surely for visits. If winter gets too tough, we can find you shelter and food – for some labor input, of course. That's the currency these days, which works. There's always something to do around the farm to put some food on the tables for dinner. So you just know, guys, if anything."

They thanked, smiled and repeated how they didn't really know whether they'd stay.

"Well, if you happen around here some other times, just know the invitation stays. We know it's tough out there, so yeah. And if you find another horse," he laughed. They did, too. The guy seemed okay.

But then again, Jeremiah was a cowboy dream of a daddy figure himself at the start. Nick wasn't into falling for a pretty picture, anymore. Though, he did like this one. There was that.

* * *

The ranch-life seemed so idyllic compared to everything else they'd seen out there, and despite Alicia's terror of repeating their past mistakes, it was easy to be lulled into a false sense of security by these nice people who welcomed them with open arms.

And yet, reality came seeping back in as Alicia helped Rosemary with the dishes after dinner. George had taken Nick, Troy, and Henry to the guesthouse they'd borrow for the night, and Cole and Matthew left to check on the animals one last time before bed. In the kitchen, it was just the two of them.

Rosemary had heated up some water and was washing the plates and cutlery, while Alicia was on drying-duty, patting everything dry with a dish towel and little by little putting everything away in the cupboards.

"If you do decide to stay, I feel I must warn you," Rosemary said after a few minutes of dull small talk. "Those brutes down by the lake will come to pay you all a visit sooner or later."

Alicia nodded, wary but feeling as though that particular point had already been made clear. It was why Alicia was reluctant to stay.

"You're a very pretty girl, Alicia," the woman continued.

Alicia didn't thank her because, honestly, the way she said it didn't exactly make it sound like a compliment.

"And that's a very dangerous thing. Especially these days."

Alicia paused her work to look at the older woman, not liking the direction this conversation was headed. "What are you saying?"

Rosemary sighed, trying to choose her words carefully.

"I'm saying, if I had a daughter, there's no way in hell I'd ever let her out of my sight. Not with those thugs around. I'm saying… please be careful."

Alicia swallowed, slowly returning to the plate she was rubbing dry. "Did something happen with any of the women here?"

The woman shook her head. "No. Thank God. But we have better protection than most. And the men, even my George, bless him, they tend to forget what it's like for us gals. They think guns and the undead are the worst that can happen."

She shot the girl a significant look.

"But we know better."

* * *

It was getting dark rapidly as they were thinking of going back, and the Thomas family offered them to stay the night in one of their guest houses that was still empty. It had two beds, but they had sleeping bags to share. Given the threat in the trailers – even though Henry kept grumbling they'd be fine – Troy and Nick decided to play it safe.

They treated the guests to a fried chicken and potatoes dinner and showed them to the guesthouse. It was simple, just one room with a fireplace and two beds. Troy and Nick claimed the sleeping bags and the floor. Henry sipped some cider and hit the sack while the youth lingered outside on the porch. The ranch seemed vast, the sky was full of stars, and it was nice to not be hungry for a change.

Troy had that spark in his eye. Nick read it as longing and doubted he had it wrong.

"You want all that back, don't you?" he asked unnecessarily, lighting a cigarette, and sat down on the porch.

* * *

Alicia left the main house feeling a little unnerved. It wasn't that the idea of such a threat hadn't occurred to her before. She'd just never truly been given a reason to examine it further.

She approached the guesthouse slowly, eyeing the stars up above as she walked, trying to enjoy the beautiful show they were putting on. She could see the barest outline of Troy and Nick out on the porch, one of them (she assumed Nick) holding a lit cigarette glowing dimly in the dark.

* * *

There was a diplomatic air to this ranch that had never been present at Otto's own despite its rustic setting and security. Jeremiah was in charge and that was it. He said what went and what didn't, and Troy imposed the rules. There was no leniency or negotiation with outside fractions. A lot of people had stumbled upon them in time, those from town, locals that Jake had gone to school with and some Troy'd seen from arbitrary trips into town for supplies. He'd never known them by name and nor did he trust them.

He didn't trust these people either, finding their cozy step up to be too idyllic. Nothing like that existed. Nor did it before.

Troy was envious, though, and nostalgic. His ranch hadn't been perfect, but it was structured, and he'd worked at it every day to keep it from deteriorating, and he believed that, had he not brought Madison in, it would still be there.

He'd seen her out there, blond hair, motherly fussing, and immediately latched on like a desperate child who'd just gotten lucky with an esteemed toy. He'd been blinded. He should have known better.

He should have killed Walker and his people and been done with it, and sent Madison on her way.

The end.

Only it didn't pan out that way, and here he was, sitting on a stranger's porch, a close replica of what his own had looked like, and with no idea where he'd be next week.

It took Troy a minute, but he slowly nodded in response to Nick's question.

"I do. It's all I knew. It's all I know. You don't? I know the ranch wasn't exactly home to you, but for a while there, while you were taking over Russell's place you seemed to be resigned to sticking down roots."

Nick chuckled softly, taking a drag, thinking about the implication.

"I have thought about it," he confessed. "A lot. I don't know, Troy. It's like I've been trying to rather resign myself to those roots than actually wanting to do it. That place before yours, in Baja, and the colony after that where I met Luciana - those have been too much pain. I wasn't ready for a repetition and got it, anyway."

Alicia climbed the stairs to the front porch in time to hear the last of Nick's sentence. It was enough that she could understand the context of their conversation, but she didn't interrupt. Instead, she gestured for her brother to share his pack of cigarettes and perched on the railing with his lighter once he handed it to her.

Troy shadowed Alicia with his eyes as she joined them, unconcerned with having her hear their conversation or interject. He had nothing to hide.

"And what do you think was the opposing object in all those instances? Did you do something wrong? You say all these places repeated a pattern of destruction, but maybe it was you, your habits and way of dealing."

Nick heaved a sigh, painful inside his chest, and looked up at the stars.

"The place in Baja wasn't my fault directly – I wasn't even there when it fell. The second place had its unstable situation with the drug gang before I came around. All I did was buy them a little time, and then helped convince people to leave. Otherwise, they'd be dead. Including me, if I chose to stay. That danger was a result of their leader's doing. My doing was that I brought them right to you where they were shot at and killed for experiments. So you tell me about my ways of dealing."

"And what, you feel like it was your fault for trying to seek safety for your people? For trying to find a safe space? Get real, Nick. None of that was your fault. It was just unlucky."

And that was the truth of it, and he couldn't predict that Troy'd be there for any other reason than to help. He still had faith in people, and Troy supposed, in theory, he'd killed that last shred of Nick's belief.

Nick shrugged, exhaling the smoke.

"There's always wondering going on in your mind about what you coulda done differently. You can run from it, shut it down, put it on the shelf in your mind and lock it someplace, but at some moment, it gets out, seeps through the cracks in your mental barriers and starts gnawing at your brain.

"Bad luck's not all of it. It never is."

"Yeah, if it's not just bad luck, what else it is? Don't tell me you believe its karma or my coming upon your people as fate's way of kicking you in the balls for your past drug habits. It's bullshit. You couldn't have foreseen that shit coming and no one could expect you to. However, if you did, what other choice was there? What could you have done differently that you didn't already do?"

Troy wasn't asking to make him feel guilty or anything, he was curious as to why Nick was holding onto something he couldn't control.

"I don't know, Troy," Nick said, throwing his hands up, then dropped the cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out. "I coulda led them away, just somewhere, until there was a place. Or, actually, they wouldn't have left and woulda died there protecting their home from those bastards. But at least, it'd be something meaningful to them. Maybe that was the best way, and I made it worse, hardly saving anyone."

Even Luciana survived by luck. Or thanks to Jeremiah who let Nick take her in. Nick didn't want to bring it all up again. He wanted to leave it behind. It had to stay in the past.

He snatched the pack back from Alicia and lit another cigarette.

Alicia frowned, taking a drag of her cigarette as Nick snatched the pack back. He and Luciana had never really told the whole story of how and why they'd migrated to the border, but Alicia'd pieced together a few things here and there. None of it mattered much at this moment other than the fact that her brother was hurting. For both of the Clarks, guilt had the power to paralyze.

"You're not at fault for what happened in Baja," she said. "That was all Daniel and Mom. Maybe even Strand for pissing them all off in the first place.

"Luciana and her people… you couldn't have known what would happen. You gave those people a chance, Nick. It's not your fault a bunch of psychopaths were playing border patrol. You did the best you could in an impossible situation."

She paused, gaze on her feet as she took another drag.

"Just like me, right?" It's what he'd been trying to tell her about the cellar. "As for laying down roots? It's not gonna work. Not the way the world is now."

A small smile ticked at the corner of Troy's mouth at the casual mention of psychopaths at the border, and then dimmed in respect to the seriousness of what she was saying.

"You should listen to your sister. None of what happened to them or at those places were your fault. They're happenstance and a feature of this new world. But Alicia is wrong in saying that it isn't going to work, that it doesn't work, that laying down roots isn't possible. It is. I had that, I could have continued to have it and this place—this setup—is evidence of that. You just have to stop going into these places and scenarios with the expectation that it's going to fail. You have to believe in what you do and what you did."

Troy had. It was when he started questioning himself, started opening himself up to another's influence that it changed for him, and things panned out differently.

Troy wasn't going to lecture them, though, and wasn't expecting any more of an answer on it.

"So, what's the plan for tomorrow? Are we going back alone or taking old man Henry with us?"

"We never came anywhere with an expectation of failure," Nick stated, and took a drag. "It's not the expectation. It's not just luck. It's just how it is – nothing lasts."

He thought about it while taking another drag, holding it, and releasing a puff of smoke.

"We don't decide for Henry – he's his own man. And yeah, we going back to the cabin and then… I don't know. I'm not sure whether it's smart to stay there even for a night with those people at the lake."

Alicia hummed in agreement with her brother, finishing the cigarette and putting it out with the sole of her boot, careful to pick it up so she could dispose of it later.

"Would you like to stay?" she asked Troy, eyeing him curiously. It wasn't a Nick and Alicia versus Troy thing. She just genuinely wanted to know his thoughts on the matter.

Troy still didn't agree with Nick in regards to his view that nothing lasted. It wasn't true despite what Troy'd experienced. That was on Troy and a series of bad choices. He'd save the push for another day.

Nick wasn't ready, and, if Troy was honest, neither was he.

"I think that we should," he said. "If not indefinitely, than for a few days. You two still have a bit of healing to do and we have food and shelter. A checkmark in all the boxes. The trailer dudes might not even know we're here. We can keep it that way. We hide the jeep, lay low, the horse is already taken care of so he won't be a problem in giving us away and we stay around Jake's place until the two of you are ready to move on."

"Don't play that wounded card, we're not even close to the shape you're describing," Nick said, unable to hold back an amused smile. Troy was so eager to stay it was getting ridiculous. Nick understood his needs, but there were things they couldn't turn their backs to and ignore for as long as they liked. "Whether we hide the Jeep or not isn't gonna make us safer. Those people are not safe. Not even because of things others say about them – but because  _WE_  don't know anything, we haven't seen anything with our own eyes, and simply judging by other people's opinions is not safe, either. They could be worse. Or they could be better. Either way, what we don't know can kill us. So I would vote for making the stay as short as possible. Taking risks that can be avoided is not a smart way."

"Considering they apparently shoot other people's livestock and try to take what doesn't belong to them by force, I'm not all that eager to stick around either," Alicia admitted, wrapping one arm around the post next to her for support. Besides, her little chat with Rosemary hadn't exactly made the possibility of staying more enticing.

"So, what's the endgame, Clarks?" Troy asked. "I get that you're both fucked up and have emotional healing to do but you can't go through this life solely with the purpose of existing day to day. As we've established, nowhere is safe and there are people like that trailer trash everywhere. You really think they're the only group that you have to worry about? That if you keep moving you aren't going to stumble upon another? And another? We're already hiding and by moving from place to place you're only making it worse and harder on yourselves. On all of us. You want to stay off the Proctors' radar until they actually think you're dead, we're dead, don't you think this'll be the best place to do that? That we stand less chance of running into his people off the grid?"

Nick threw the cigarette butt down and stepped on it.

"I know it's hard on you, I get it. It's not what you're used to at all. But you want me to do something I find impossible to do right now - I can't make plans. I can't think long term and make promises to you. I'm not ready for staying in one place. I haven't found that place yet. This ranch is not it. I can feel it in my gut it's not safe. I'm not gonna go against my gut again, not when Alicia is with me.

"I liked that trading post in Mexicali. I wanted to stay awhile. I really did. But since that also went to hell, I've lost that feeling. This place - although looking too good to be true - is not it. If you feel this is it for you, I'm not gonna drag you away."

Troy was right about one thing — nowhere was safe, and searching for that one special place that could be had been their downfall in the past. It was a nice idea, in theory, to settle down and create something of their own, to try and make life better. Worth living. But Alicia had also learned that as soon as you had something worthy, people would kill to take it from you.

"If these people are as bad as Henry and Rosemary say, then by staying here we're only setting ourselves up for another turf-war. Is it really worth it?"

Nick's reason for wanting to stay at the arena was something else entirely, although Troy doubted he was ready to admit it to himself. None of it had to do with safety. He'd said as much that night over and over and over again.

He hadn't gone into depth on the why, and despite Troy's raging headache the next day and accompanying nausea, it wasn't hard to figure out the cause. Madison smothered him, and Nick was desperate for a guilt-free way out that would keep her from hunting him down as she did in the past. He'd even convinced himself it wasn't for the drugs that were readily available and he'd quickly started working for, but for the connection he and Troy could prove to have on the inside for his mother. He'd even said as much to her face.

A bold-faced lie. Not his first but certainly his last.

"I'm not staying, if you're not staying," Troy stated unwaveringly. That wasn't even a tenth of what he was suggesting or have been trying to get at when he brought up the debate. "You're really asking me if water, a dependable food source, and safety is worth it, Alicia? I get that you two aren't eager to get into a fisticuffs – it is what it is. But is that the way you expect us to do it now? To avoid ever altercation that might come up and fight for nothing? Someone takes our stuff we just hand it over?"

Nick drew more air into his damaged lungs, feeling exhausted by having to swim around in all those dilemmas before he really felt there was something solid to talk about.

"Of course not," Alicia responded to Troy's question, about to elaborate when a female form appeared out of the darkness.

Nick had no chance to even try to humor him, either. A figure was approaching, a basket in her hand. She reminded him of Alicia's friend from the Broke Jaw – the Trimbol girl.

"Hey, guys," she smiled, approaching. "I see you're not sleeping yet. I brought you a little something here, our home-warming gift to appreciate the fact that you're good people, and we don't get enough of those."

She put the basket at the base of the stairs and revealed a thermos mug and a plate with three pie slices.

"Nothing brings good sleep like a nice snack before bed, huh," she remarked. "My dad's big on that saying."

She gave the plate to Troy and put the thermos mug on the stair between them and took the basket off the ground.

"I better go tuck myself in, so… see ya at breakfast?"

They thanked her; she beamed, her teeth glistening in the poor moonlight.

"I'm Katie, by the way."

She wiggled her fingers in a bye and walked away, humming something, her basket rocking at her thigh.

She was about Alicia's age, or so Alicia assumed from what could see of her, and she was bringing treats. Alicia wasn't sure if it was given merely out of the kindness of their hearts or if they just _really_  wanted them to stay in the area. Alicia supposed to them it wouldn't hurt to have allies against their ongoing feud with the lake-people.

"That's just… too nice," Nick said, smiling with irony.

"Yeah," Alicia murmured in the wake of her brother's statement, slipping off her perch on the railing to fetch the thermos mug Katie had left behind. She opened it and sniffed, warm steam rising to fan at her face.

"Mulled wine?" she guessed once she withdrew, allowing herself a small sip, careful not to burn her tongue. She offered the mug to the other two.

"It's one thing to fight in self-defense. To protect what we have. It's another to go after what we want despite knowing it's likely to get us or someone else hurt."

Similarities between Gretchen and Katie dropping off the basket of goodies like little red didn't go unobserved to Troy, and while she lingered, he found himself unable to meet her gaze.

The night he'd caught up to the Trimbols after they'd abandoned the ranch, it had never been his aim to kill them.

To kill  _her_.

He'd liked her well enough and all he wanted was the answers from his friend that Troy believed he deserved. It had just happened. Troy'd tried to talk to Mike on his own (which came up while Mike tended to his father's horses as he usually did before bed) and before Troy knew it, things escalated into a frenzy of accusations, Troy'd pulled a trigger, and he'd choked up blood and was screaming bloody murder.

Vernon had come running. Then his wife and daughter. At the time, Troy hadn't thought twice, picking them off in a blur of hazy ferocity. He hadn't even realized what he'd done until the horses snapped him out of the red.

There had been no way to take the horses or anything else to the farm, so he'd left them, assuming they were too far out to be found and that eventually, they'd just become another sinful memory.

And they were.

Like Jake.

He dug into the slice of pie the girl had given him with his fingers and nodded his agreement with Nick, polishing it off in less than a minute, setting aside the plate on the stairs, washing it down with the mulled wine.

Troy swiped the back of his hand against his mouth to clear of it crumbs, offering the mug the back to whoever wanted to take the next sip. "Someone is always going to get hurt, Alicia. Nothing you do is going to change or minimalize that. There is a literal walking plague out there picking off the living. And they keep growing. And they will continue to grow until we've wiped each other out or they have. There is only one inevitable goal in this life anymore. One sure fact. You will die, and you will come back. How long that takes is up to you and how determined you are to fight for it. I'm not saying we have to go in guns blazing and on the offensive but should they happen upon us while we're staying at the cabin, we should at least be able to shoot back. Where do we draw the line on what is ours to protect and what we surrender?"

As Troy spoke, riding his favorite horse of tactics and art of war, Nick lost all possible appetite for any pie or wine. He lit another cigarette, feeling like his very soul was tired of all this, be it theory or practice.

"It's pretty simple for me – there's nothing of mine around here, so I got no lines to draw."

Alicia took the mug back from Troy when he offered it, seeing as Nick declined.

"The cabin is yours by law," Alicia told Troy, taking a long sip, enjoying the warmth the spiced beverage provided her. "But the law doesn't apply anymore. And Henry's been living there for, what, three years now? Four? The supplies Jake spoke of are long gone. Everything that remains is Henry's. That leaves us in much the same position we were in when we got here."

They'd gain a cabin, but also a feud that might turn lethal. And she wanted no part of it. Her gaze fell to the mug in her hand as silence briefly settled on their group. She rubbed her thumb across the smooth surface, murmuring.

"Disposing of the dead is inevitable. But the living… I'm tired of all the killing."

She took one last sip and pushed the mug into her brother's hand on her way to the door.

"I'm gonna head to bed. Are you sure neither of you don't want it?" The bed, that was. Nick would deny it even if he did. He always put her first, and she doubted she'd be able to make him stop that. But she didn't demand any special treatment from Troy, and he had as much of a right to that bed as she did.

"I'll take it," Troy supplied, turning to offer her a sickeningly well-mannered smile. They were the ones looking to move around from place to place without the creature comforts – why the hell not? Nick wouldn't take it although he was the one that most needed it. "I suggest you lay your sleeping bag between the two beds. Houses like these generally don't have a sealed floor and the cold seeps in like a bitch. You'll have a tough night otherwise."

He stood up and stretched lightly.

"I'm going to take one last walk around, fertilize a bush or something and then hit the hay myself."

He bent to pick up the plate, setting it aside on the railing out of the way so that Katie could collect it the following day, and slowly started his trek in search of a bit of privacy.

Nick set his jaw at Troy's stunt, but didn't say anything. Alicia hardly needed Nick to make her feel like a damsel if she tried to get rid of any hint of special treatment. He wasn't going to stick his opinions between those two stubborn showcases.

The feeling of wariness didn't leave him. It was some subtle chill under his skin, something that kept pulling at his nerves.

Something was off.

"This house is almost on the edge of their property," he murmured, looking ahead across the field. "So damn quiet. They're all spooked by the trailer people, but how come they don't patrol their land at night?"

He glanced back at Alicia, squinting wistfully.

"If they did, someone woulda passed here. It's weird."

Meeting Nick's gaze, Alicia shrugged. "Maybe they did pass and we just didn't see them in the dark? They could have come with Katie."

And Alicia hadn't seen her until she was only a few feet away.

"You worried?" she asked, hand on the door handle.

"You could say that," Nick responded. He felt safer when they slept in the car, and here it was just strangely vulnerable. He felt like a sitting duck but couldn't explain it. And that was borderline paranoid. Alicia didn't have to worry about things he couldn't prove. "Go sleep. And take the damn bed."

Alicia squinted at her brother, unsure whether it was wise to leave him alone with all his worries. But as he encouraged her to do just that, she realized how tired she was. Today hadn't been nearly as exhausting as the day before, but she still longed for a good night's sleep.

"Make me," she said grinning, a direct quotation from their childhood fights when he would shout at her to go away whenever she decided to hang out with him and his older friends. She opened the door and headed inside, careful not to wake a sleeping Henry as she claimed one of the sleeping bags and, per Troy's advice, settled down on the floor between the two beds. She fell asleep shortly after.

* * *

Troy'd made use of the open air facilities and then walked along the edge of the fencing, listening for the dead and humbly enjoying the sounds of the animals nearby.

Nature's music.

He could also do with a bit of  _System of a Down_  or  _Breaking Benjamin_.

He slowly made his way back.

"You should get some sleep," he said as he approached Nick, observing that Nick didn't appear to be ready to move and join his sister who was already gone.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be in fine."

Nick shifted on the stair to let him pass, and lit another cigarette. He wished they were back at El Bazaar. Even a crazy night there was peaceful compared to this battleground. Strife was buzzing in the ground beneath his feet, like some weird effect of drugs he hadn't taken.

He turned to Troy before Otto walked inside: "Have you seen anyone out there? Ranchers on a watch shift?"

Troy nodded and intended to leave Nick to his peace when his voice and query made him stop, eyes immediately going to the surroundings all shadowed in black.

There wasn't a light on in the cabin Rosemary had entertained them in, either. It seemed as if everyone had turned in. It was just them – the new, younger lot – that were still up.

"No," he answered, strolling back toward the railing where the plate still sat, still eyeing the scenery and seeing nothing suspect. "Why? Your sixth sense buzzing?"

"You tell me: have you ever let everyone on the ranch go to bed while Walker was out there?"

"Hell, no. The militia would be patrolling the fencing all night and all day in shifts. But that's Broke Jaw. These people are different. Pacifists. I don't even recall seeing any class one weapons in Rosemary's house. Only Henry had an open and displayed rifle."

"For people aware of the trailers group being bad news and ready to steal their cows, it's a bit too pacifistic."

"This coming from part two of the 'we don't want to hurt' anyone brigade? Shouldn't you be ecstatic instead of suspicious?" Troy asked, raising a brow, letting the sarcasm drift between them before folding his arms and setting them on the railing. "You're trying to hint at something, Nick. Tell me. You think these people are wolves in sheep's clothing or that maybe something happened to them?"

"I think there should be at least two people keeping watch during the night," Nick reasoned. "And we haven't seen them do it. Doesn't mean they're not there, but I just find it strange. And I'm not hinting on anything, I just wouldn't like to be killed in my sleep if some siege starts while we're here by accident. Just think about it: the trailer people don't leave for a reason. And if they intend to stay, that means they either have a plan or are cooking one. And it's not a friendly neighbors scheme."

He shrugged, taking a drag.

"Or I'm just paranoid and miss a shot of tequila to put me to sleep. You go in, I'll be there in five."

"There's a voice in your head for a reason, you should make a point of listening to it more often," Troy stated, weariness pulling in like an old friend to take over and cloud his thinking.

He'd have offered to take a look around the ranch and make sure that everything was okay so that Nick'd be able to sleep soundly tonight but Troy just didn't have the energy. As if it had been zapped from him all at once just at the thought. He'd felt similar the night before.

Although hesitant to leave Nick outside when he was feeling mistrustful, Troy accepted that he'd be in in five minutes, and started inside, surprised to see that Alicia had once again taken his advice, and eased himself onto the open mattress face first, falling asleep almost instantly.


	11. Chapter 11

**THE CHOSEN ONES — PART 1**

Nick frowned, mulling it over as Troy turned and went inside yawning. It was weird, too, that Otto would listen and yet not be willing to scope out the territory to make sure. Although it was clear none of them got enough rest, and they just kept going on fumes. Especially Troy. Alicia with her rodeo session needed all the sleep she could get, as well. Nick needed it, but couldn't make himself go inside.

He finished his smoke, considered taking a stroll like Troy did. The moon was behind the clouds, but Nick could see across the field. The forest started about two-three dozen yards behind the guesthouse. He went behind it to take a piss.

He was about to follow his companions' examples and go hit the sack when he heard something. Some faint sounds from the distance. Like shuffling. Footsteps.

Nick pressed his back to the cabin's wall, listening. If it were the infected – if by some crazy reason his paranoia was on point and there was no guard to prevent any from seeping through – they would sell themselves out with other sounds, with that certain way their footfalls shuffle. And he had no knife.

He squatted, trying to feel the ground around him for any weapon, a stick or a rock, but there was nothing. For a long moment of desperate searching, there was nothing. Then his fingers came across a stick. Not much, but better than nothing.

And then, Nick heard voices. Hushed, but he could tell there were a few. He held his breath, listening, his heart pumping in his ears.

"… not enough time. Maybe we should wait a bit more."

"No, it should be fine by now, unless they're superheroes."

"It was a small mug, I couldn't get more."

"It's okay. You wanna go wait out there?"

"No. I'll just… just hurry."

"Shut up, you both."

They stopped. Three of them. And that stupid stick wasn't going to do anything. One went up the porch steps, gingerly opened the door. Stepped inside. The other one followed, but was met with the first one at the door.

"The fourth is missing," a female voice hissed. "Where the fuck is he?"

"Hell would I know? Katie!"

"What? They were all here, all went in, I swear! I swear! I saw!"

"Well, you saw wrong!"

"The hell it matters, just take the girl and go," a male one suggested. "Maybe he passed out in the bushes someplace while taking a piss."

"We can't leave him out there," Katie said. "They'll know! He'll tell them! Please, don—"

"It's on you, you were watching them."

"I did! I did!"

"Go get the girl," the female said. The footsteps went in the cabin, and out, after a bit.

"Sleeping like a baby," the male murmured, making Nick's innards crawl.

"Let's go."

Nick heard someone – probably Katie – take the plate off the porch. The footfalls shuffled away.

He crept to the end of the cabin to peek after them. Three silhouettes, one of them carrying Alicia following another one. Katie walked in the tail, a bit away. Fighting all his instincts, Nick waited for them to get further, then dashed for the forest. It was painful to breathe and run, but he didn't care. As soon as he reached the cover of the first trees starting right after a makeshift fence, he jogged along it toward the main house where the three went.

With short series of cross-runs from house to house, he finally saw how only two were walking away, and Katie was about to go indoors. Nick caught her off-guard and dragged her behind the house, his palm over her mouth to stop her from screaming. When she saw him as the moon left the clouds, he could rather feel her pale. She looked like a scared ghost.

"Who are they and where are they taking her?" he demanded. "What is going on? I don't wanna hurt you, but I will. Unless you speak. So tell me."

"I… I— Oh god, I told them it was too early."

"What are you talking about?" Nick shook her a little. She started to sob.

"They… trailers. They take her there."

"What for?"

"I… I dunno…"

"Bullshit!"

"It's a… a ritual… they need her for… the spirits, they will guide her…"

"What the hell does this all mean?"

She started to cry. She was useless.

"What did you do?"

"I put… some pills… in the wine… my mom, she needs pills to sleep. I took some."

"Why you did it?"

"I had to," she wept, her shoulders shaking in my grip. "I had… to…"

"Listen to me," Nick shook her once, the back of her head hit the wall. He felt no pity, to his surprise. She was just a scared kid, but he still had to fight back his anger. "I need our weapons. Where you keep them?"

She wept harder. "They… gone…"

"What?"

"They… took … them…"

He sucked in a painful breath, thinking, then took his hands off her.

"Your parents know?"

Her crying stopped, her eyes wide and bulging. "Please, don't tell anyone! You can't tell anyone! Or spirits would take them! Please! Please don't tell anyone, please—"

"Just go in and pray I get my sister back," Nick hissed. "Or I'll come back for you, and they'll know what you're doing. You alone in this?"

"I… I…" she wept. Nick was losing time.

"Will they come back? Katie, will they come back?"

She shook her head, weeping like her mother died. "Just… one… they… take… just…"

He debated going back for Troy, but he was out. She put those pills into the wine, and he drank it. Nick wouldn't wake him. He had to believe her, he had to believe they only took Alicia.

He followed their trail out of the ranch. He almost caught up to them, but they didn't bother looking back. Nick was careful, circling around the back of the trailers, keeping to the trees. Their dog barked, but they shut it up. Nick noted the trailer where they put Alicia. They both walked out after a bit and went into another, bigger trailer. The lights were on in it, as well as in a few others. No one was outside, however, on from his side. Nick imagined some might be carrying their watch around the area, but he had a clear passage, and he used it.

The trailer was open. It alarmed Nick in the back of his mind, but he needed to get to Alicia before they returned. She was on the floor, her hands bound behind her back. She was still out cold. He couldn't wake her.

When he was about to haul her up to carry out, the trailer opened, and he heard a trigger click.

"Well, well, well, here's the fourth," the familiar male voice said. "You were right."

"I'm just a translator, Benny," the woman said, Nick saw her smile as the light went on. "The spirits told me he'd come. We have everything in place. Just like they told us."

* * *

A whole forever went by, dropping like water from a poorly screwed tap, second after second. Nick's body was going numb, he shifted, and then it all continued. Hours. Eternal hours. Alicia kept sleeping, and he kept beating himself up.

_How could we have been so stupid? How could we have stayed? Why wouldn't I insist on following my gut?_

It was safer to stay, the ranchers supposed. But gee, how fucking stupid was that? Nick was sure now that all three of them would have been safer if they left.

That felt like some horrible karma, like some bad doom that kept trying to catch up with them. Or maybe with Nick. Maybe he had to die at that dam, and now, like in that silly pre-apocalypse movie, death was chasing to catch up. Through some impossible situations he couldn't foresee.

* * *

Consciousness started to seep back in, bringing with it a throbbing headache that made Alicia feel like she was being hit repeatedly with a not-so-gentle hammer. She groaned the first time she tried to move, feeling that her right shoulder had gone numb from continued pressure against a hard surface, and opened her eyes. She was horizontal on the floor looking up at a wall decorated with framed hangings of various flowers done by needlepoint. It looked like the kind elderly ladies would proudly display in their home.

A little bit of light seeped in through the cracks in the curtains, creating a semi-dark atmosphere Alicia and her headache could have appreciated were it not for the fact that she was no longer at the place where she had gone to sleep.

She turned her head eventually, and her gaze landed on Nick. He was sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall opposite her, his arms behind him. He looked miserable and scared.

"Nick?" she murmured, only now registering how dry her mouth was and the fact that she couldn't move her arms. They'd been gathered and tied at the small of her back.

Panic then. Rising fear that continued to elevate, her heart pounding, head spinning as she forced herself to sit up with great effort, looking around like a trapped animal.

It was a trailer or mobile home of some kind. She could see that now. Voices sounded from outside and people-shaped shadows fell on the windows every now and then.

"Are they in there?"

"Yep."

"Can we look?"

"No. Orders from Mother Elise. You'll see them this afternoon when everything is ready."

Silence. Retreating footsteps.

Alicia didn't understand.

Her gaze shot back to Nick. She kept her voice to a whisper so to not alert anyone outside. "Nick? Are you hurt?"

She looked confused, disoriented, and finally, scared. Panicking. As soon as she felt her wrists numb and tied behind her back.

There was, however, an eerie calm inside Nick. As if a part of him started to resign itself to inevitable end that would follow. They didn't take them here to be their guests of honor. By bits and pieces he had caught from outside, it was a bunch of crazies getting high on sacrifices or rituals. What end of the world would it be if it didn't bring out all the crazy it harbored hidden before?

Nick shook his head slowly. "No, but the night is young. The wine was drugged. The girl who brought it, Katie, 's in cahoots with them. Has been awhile, as far as I can judge."

"The lake-people?" Alicia squinted at her brother through the darkness. And she'd been drugged? That explained the headache and why she felt roughly the same as she had after Melissa Stevens' seventeenth birthday party when Alicia'd had one too many shots of tequila.

She tested her restraints, trying to pull her wrists apart, but they wouldn't budge. Cable ties? She made an effort to get to her feet, because surely there had to be something in this trailer they could use to free themselves, but her head spun and her pitiful attempts were thwarted. Instead, she had to settle for shuffling closer to Nick.

"What do they want?" she whispered. "And where's Troy?"

"No one reported to me about what they want," he said. "But it seems to be some kind of sect, with rituals and sacrifices. They didn't mean to take all of us, just you. I wasn't sleeping, so I followed, and so they got two. I assume Troy will be told that we left him. They got some working routine here with the guests of the ranch. If only we didn't stay…"

* * *

Despite his exhaustion, Troy'd slept restlessly, dreaming about what if's and how he might have been able to prevent Jake from being munched on by his, Troy's, vengeance if only Troy could control himself. Only it was never a walker that was cutting into him with blunt teeth – it was Troy himself. As he tucked into Jake's arm, he was convinced he could taste the disappointment and sorrow in the thickness of his blood, his final words of condemnation clear and brittle, hollowing out until they faded and Troy was left with sunlight and silence.

It took him a moment to comprehend that he was awake and, more importantly, alone.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, blinking furiously to push aside the heaviness of last night's exhaustion and what he assumed was his lack of decent sleep, and steadily sat up.

Henry wasn't on the bed next to him, Alicia's sleeping bag was unzipped and left where she'd put it the night before in a messy heap and Nick's hadn't moved from its spot in the corner.

Hadn't he slept at all last night?

Troy sat up, swung his legs off the bed and pressed two fingers to the each of his temples to alleviate the mild headache he had. He needed something to drink.

He got up, still dressed in his clothes, and stumbled to the door expecting to see Nick, perhaps, on the stair sharing a cigarette with his sister.

Troy knew he wasn't or couldn't be dreaming, because there were people walking to and fro between the houses, either in the middle or starting their daily chores. Some smiled his way. Troy inhaled slowly in hopes the fresh air would help clear his head, and slowly started down the porch steps, intending to head for the main house, expecting that his friends might be having breakfast.

And they were.

But Alicia and Nick weren't among them.

"Morning, Troy," Rosemary greeted, smiling that one hundred kilowatt smile that looked and felt genuine. "Care for some eggs? Mushrooms? Katie just cut up some melon."

Henry had a mouthful and was smiling, too. George, Troy assumed, had already eaten and was off taking care of his leadership duties and making sure that the ranch was locked up nice and tight.

"I wouldn't mind breakfast but uh… I don't suppose you've seen Nick and Alicia?"

Rosemary's smile dimmed and her eyes momentarily darted to Henry as if to gauge his reaction. "Oh."

_Oh?_

"They left," Henry supplied.

For a second Troy wasn't sure he'd heard them correctly.

"Are you okay, Troy?" Rosemary asked, brows furrowed with apprehension, her hands darting to her apron to wipe them clean as she strolled toward Troy. He took an immediate step back.

"When did they leave?"

"Katie said she saw them go early this morning."

Troy averted his gaze to the Gretchen-lookalike and met her eyes in a way he couldn't the day before, observing that she looked skittish, her features slightly paler and less welcome than they were earlier.

_She's feeling sorry for me?_

"Did they say anything?" he asked, speaking directly to the girl.

Rosemary intervened like a mother hen, shielding her friend's daughter from his probing gaze, sensing the change in atmosphere and like she needed to do her best to soothe the situation.

"They thanked us for the overnight, made their apologies and left."

Why would they do that, and more importantly, why would they do that without Troy? Were they that worried about his views on their discussion about the turf-wars, or was it more reprehensible than that?

Nick had aired some doubts.

"I'm sorry," Rosemary said, apologizing for either their antics or the part she had to play in their disappearance, Troy couldn't tell and wasn't able to dissect her meaning. "You're welcome to stay with us, Troy. Henry says he doesn't know you very well but that if you're anything like your brother that you'd be a credit to the team."

He had absolutely nothing to say to that, and instead took in the scene before him with a new light.

Henry continued to eat, meeting Troy's eye every now and then, and Rosemary had turned to grab a plate and was scooping a generous amount of the stuff she'd spoken of before setting them down on the table.

"Come. Sit. Eat," she said, pulling an open chair away from the table.

She was smiling again, that welcome motherly type that might have hooked Troy in the past and weakened his knees, but this time it made him feel alien and moderately stupid. He'd fallen for a smile just like that a couple of months ago. It made you feel like you belonged, like you were loved or at least cared for.

He wanted to cut it off her face.

Only he wouldn't.

Not yet, and not until he'd found out where they'd kept his friends or what they did to them.

Troy returned the smile and moved to sit at the table at her polite request, reaching for the knife and fork she'd offered, and began to dig in, listening and replying as needed as she asked what he used to do on his farm and what he might like to do here if he decided to stay.

* * *

Sect? Rituals? Sacrifice? What the fuck?

Alicia blinked at him, assuming for a moment she'd heard him wrong. She could smack him for having followed and gotten himself into this mess as well, but that would make her a hypocrite. She would have done the same in his stead.

"Did you get a good look at them? Know how many there are?"

"At least a dozen," Nick assumed. "There's no way of knowing for sure. I'm sorry, Lisha. I should have insisted on leaving, we'd be safe then."

He finally found the tail of the zip-tie holding his wrists with his fingers. He pulled at it, tightening the restraints, until there was no space and it hurt. He drew in a slow deeper breath, close to praying it would work, then began to strain his wrists to break it.

By the feel of it, it wasn't going to be easy, if possible at all.

"Don't," Alicia said sternly, finally getting her back against the wall, using it to help her get to her feet. "This is not on you. Nor me. Nor Troy. This is all on them."

A vague gesture in the direction of the door was made. She was surprised to find herself more angry than scared at the moment, but she welcomed it.

Her legs didn't seem to have gotten the memo, however, and they wobbled slightly as she walked the tiny room, searching for something, anything, that could be used as a weapon.

"There's nothing here, you can sit back down," Nick informed, wincing at his wrists screaming at his every attempt to break the zip-tie. "They wouldn't have left us here together if they thought we had a chance."

* * *

"How long had the three of you been travelling together?" Rosemary asked Troy once they'd finished off breakfast and it was just the two of them. Katie had excused herself some time ago, Henry had gone to relieve himself, and George had stopped in just long enough to comment on the coffee, to try and sell Troy the same shit she had about staying and to finish what he was doing with the cattle. One of their cows was readying to give birth and they feared because of her fluctuating weight that it would be a difficult one.

"A couple of months."

She nodded gently, appearing thoughtful.

"This life has changed our standard outlooks, our responsibilities and how we deal with people on a social level. You and your friends didn't talk about going your separate ways?"

"Not directly. I guess they felt we had irreconcilable opinions," he stated.

No part of Troy believed that. He refused. He searched her face for some chink in that understanding armor and found it incredible hard. She was good. A superb actress. If he were in any other position, he'd be a fan.

But two could play that game.

And play he would. Hard.

"Then in that they're smart and doing what's best for them. Being with people who aren't likeminded in how to deal with this new world is a sure way of getting yourself killed or hurt. What is it you want, Troy?"

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table with a shrug.

"I get it, it isn't an easy question," she murmured, smiling with something that could only be described as sympathy. It made him want to reach over and wrap his hands around her throat. "In the meantime, while you figure it out, the invitation is open and you're welcome to make yourself at home."

She got up from the table, pushing her plate together with Henry's, and reached for Troy's. He warded off her attempt, withdrawing the plate out of her reach childishly, smiling as he did to let her know he was teasing.

"The least I can do is the dishes."

"Nonsense," Rosemary chimed, waving off his courtesy as she bid to make a grab for the plate again. He repeated his previous act by keeping it just out of reach and smiled wider.

"I insist."

Rosemary gave him a light-hearted reproachful look, and, after a moment's hesitation, slid the plates across the table. He collected them together and headed for the basin he'd seen Katie use to clean the pans. She'd filled it with fresh water. He dumped the cutlery into it, scrubbed the plates as needed with a steel brush resting on a side plate with dish soap, and dried them with a dishtowel, putting them down on a clean pile stacked close to the stove. When Rosemary busied herself with putting away the spices and wiping down the counter to free it of crumbs and make room for the next step to her morning, he swiped one of the blunt butter knives she'd given him to use and slipped it into his pocket.

"You know anything about baking bread, Troy?"

"That was never really my specialty."

"Did you know that you could do it with the right ingredients and no more than sunlight?"

He had and had witnessed as much at Broke Jaw.

"Yes, ma'am."

"But you've never made it?"

He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head.

"It's a handy skill to know and will keep your stomach full if you decide to leave us and take off alone. Come on, I'll show you how to do it. It literally only takes fifteen or ten minutes to throw together."

The act was getting worse – domestically so – and yet part of Troy knew that, if he attacked her, forced her to tell him that what happened to Nick, or accused any of them of harming the two, it would change his position in the group and call into question his freedom.

He had to play it smart—by playing it dumb—and bid his time.

At least until he knew where to start looking for them and had checked the grounds to his satisfaction.

"Grab that mixing bowl," she said, gesturing to a bright neon green plastic dish on the counter.

Troy rolled up his sleeves and did as she requested, easily following her instructions, smiling when she reprimanded him for doing something she viewed as clumsy.

* * *

"I don't wanna sit down," Alicia said. Of course, Nick had been right in his assumption of the situation – there was nothing here that could be used to their benefit. The picture frames didn't even have real glass in them. But she had to try. Had to do  _something_.

When the door to the trailer suddenly opened, Alicia stepped back, instinctively shielding Nick from view to the best of her ability as well as putting distance between herself and whoever was entering. It was two women, one of them in her thirties, the other closer to Alicia's age.

"I see we're all awake," the older of the two remarked, smiling and brandishing a gun.

Alicia didn't reply, keeping her eyes trained on that gun, gauging her chances to knock it from her grasp. They weren't good. And even if she could have managed, her restraints would have made the move useless.

"Go on," the woman said, now speaking to her accomplice, encouraging her to step forward. The younger girl seemed tentative, uncertain, as she approached Alicia. She was carrying a strip of fabric, and when she raised it as if to cover Alicia's eyes, Alicia flinched away, moving until her back hit the wall beside Nick.

"Don't make this difficult," the older woman said, raising her gun and pointing it directly at Alicia's leg. "Co-operate or I'll make it hurt. And if that's not incentive enough," she shifted the angle of her weapon, aiming for Nick now, "I'll put a bullet in your boyfriend's head."

Alicia's blood ran cold at that threat. She shot a frightened look at Nick before taking a step forward, clenching her jaw and keeping as still as possible as she allowed the girl to blindfold her and take away her sight.

"It's okay," the younger one whispered as she tied the knot, and she sounded so sincere Alicia almost believed her. Almost.

"You'll see each other again soon."

Even though his pulse accelerated at the idea of letting them take her away again to who knows what, and the younger girl's 'You'll see each other again soon' was finished with 'on the other side' in his head, Nick didn't move as they blindfolded Alicia. What for, he had no clue. Both Clarks knew where they were.

"Can anyone finally explain what the hell is going on here?" Nick asked as the girl jerked his sister's arm to follow her.

The older one smiled condescendingly, lowering her gun. "It's not our place to explain," she said. "The spirits will guide you. Or they won't."

With that, they left.

Nick sighed, shifted as his legs were going numb, and began torturing his wrists again, pulling at the zip-tie, willing it to snap. He caught the tail again, tightened it some more, although there was barely any millimeters left to do that, and tried again. Breathed, and tried again. That'd go better had his hands been in front of him.

* * *

They led Alicia out of the trailer, careful to make sure she didn't lose her balance on the narrows stairs, and she heard the door slam shut behind them. Movement too, as if someone had just blocked the entrance from outside. Maybe guarding it?

The women's grasps on her arms were gentle but firm as they walked her across the grounds. She could hear voices in the distance, crackling of a fire nearby, and the crunch of twigs and dead leaves beneath the soles of her boots. Other than that nothing that hinted at why they had taken them, and where they were bringing her now.

"Why am I blindfolded?" she asked, half-expecting neither of them to answer. Again, it was the oldest who spoke.

"No peeking before it's time."

Alicia had no idea what to make of that.

It wasn't long before she found herself in another trailer. The fabric was pulled off her head, and the ties around her wrists cut. She knew better than to expect this to be some sort of kindness on their part and wasn't proven wrong when the lady with the gun made use of her weapon once more, pointing it at her.

"Strip," she said simply, gesturing to Alicia's jeans and tank top.

Alicia glared daggers at her, incredulous. "I'm not doing shit."

She stepped close and put the barrel to Alicia's shoulder, staring her down.

"You can either take your clothes off, or I can cut you out of them as you bleed to death on the floor. Your choice."

Alicia caved, reluctantly so, but she did. They were probably going to kill her, but she didn't have to tempt them into pulling the trigger quicker than necessary. Because if there was anything she'd learned about this new world, it was that everything could change in a few seconds. She and Nick would make it through this. They had to.

Alicia leaned down to undo the laces on her boots, freeing herself of them and her socks. The jeans and top followed suit, all landing in a heap on the floor. She didn't make any attempts at removing her underwear and the woman seemed satisfied with her efforts for now, so Alicia left it.

The younger girl emerged from the tiny bathroom carrying towels and cloths as well as a washbasin with warm water and soap. Alicia stared at them both, highly confused. They were going to wash her?

Turned out, yes. The two women scrubbed her vigorously from the top of her forehead to the soles of her feet, and the dreaded moment where she was no longer allowed her underwear finally came. All her questions went unanswered. So did her insults. It seemed to have no effect on the two, whatsoever. They were perfectly content in their own little world, a stark contrast from both of their earlier dispositions.

"What the fuck is wrong with you people?!" Alicia cried eventually, frustrated and frightened and confused. The younger woman looked up at her then, smiling.

"All will be made clear in time. You have been chosen by the spirits. It is a great honor."

* * *

After Rosemary and Troy had thrown the bread mix together, she'd shooed him out the front door and told him to take a look around the rest of the ranch to see if he liked it.

That had been his intention to begin with but her earnest want for him to do so and her added need for his opinion if he were to see anything out of place surprised him.

Why, if she were guilty, would she be letting him run around without a leash?

Maybe she wasn't involved and he was grasping at straws? Maybe Nick had just up and left in the middle of the night worried that Troy was going to go a-wall and drag his beloved sister into a battle over four walls and some fish, and decided that getting as far away from Troy was his best bet to keeping her safe.

Especially after last night's semi-political discussion.

No, he wouldn't do that, and if he did… he'd tell Troy to his face. He wasn't a coward. If anything, so far, he'd been one of the most honest people Troy'd ever known – knew.

He scrubbed a hand to smooth away the headache that had returned with a vengeance. Not that it had ever left.

"You okay there, Troy?"

He looked up, met Henry's eyes and nodded.

"You sure?"

"Could be better," Troy conceded, gifting him a thin smile. "Don't suppose you know where I'll find Katie?"

"You're worried about your friends?"

Troy offered up no explanation, and he didn't press for one.

"If she's not with Rosemary in the kitchen, she might be at the pantry, the vegetable patch or at home."

"Which house does she stay in?" Troy asked.

He gestured to a house not far off from where they'd stayed the night before. Troy thanked him and prepared to take a walk around, pausing when Henry briefly called to stop him.

"I'm going to be heading back to the cabin, if that's alright?"

Troy started at him dumbly, gobsmacked that he needed Troy's permission to do so.

"I brought you here. I didn't want you thinking I was just going to abandon you. Besides, now that it's just you, you'll be wanting to stay at the cabin, right? Or have you taken Rosemary up on her offer?"

Neither.

"I think I'll stay here for a while."

Henry smiled knowingly, glancing around as if to admire the ranch's glory. "If you ever feel like a visit, the door's tentatively open and I could use the company."

They shared a last smile and then went their separate ways.


	12. Chapter 12

**THE CHOSEN ONES — PART 2**

When there was nothing else left in and around Nick but the stinging fire-fest in his wrists, the zip tie snapped. He froze, not believing it at first, then slowly brought his hands before him, eyeing the bruised, bleeding skin. Nick sucked in a shaky breath and scrambled to his feet. The morning sun was blazing through the dusty window, probably reflecting from it in a blinding glare, which helped as Nick peeked cautiously through it, trying to not disturb the dirty curtains.

There seemed to be one guard outside, a gun hanging on the belt at the hip that Nick could see. He had a western-like hat on, and it gave Nick a faint idea.

He squeezed the broken zip tie in his hand, put his wrists together behind him and settled on the floor. He kicked the wall two times as hard as he could, then made loud choking noises.

The door opened and let in the guard.

"The fuck," he cursed, observing the boy shaking on the floor. "What the fuck! Fuck! Hey! The fuck is wrong with you?"

The guard hesitated – debating running to get someone else or coming closer for inspection – and Nick's fragile plan hung by the thread. Nick stilled, wheezing quietly. The sound was almost genuine, since his bruised ribs didn't let him forget about them for a second.

The guard came up gingerly, crouched, his hand came to Nick's shoulder. And then Nick's struck up grabbing the guard's neck and yanking him down. The guard tumbled next to Nick; Nick had his head in the lock between his knees, squeezing with all the adrenaline-powered might he had. The guard could barely wheeze or realize what happened when Nick brought an elbow down hard on his temple, then again. Nick yanked the knife from the sheath on his other hip and added a hit of the handle. The skin split, blood oozed out. The guard was out, all right.

Reluctantly, Nick loosened his legs and pushed the guard away, trying to catch his breath. His heart was pounding in his throat, his head swimming. Now he felt the lack of sleep weighing like a ton over his shoulders.

It took him another seven minutes to put on the guard's clothes. He was, thankfully, not bearded, though a bit taller than Nick, but Nick believed in the lack of observation in people when they saw a familiar shape. If those people were like CIA agents, Nick was screwed. But that was yesterday's news, anyway.

He put on the hat, took a deeper breath before the door, then stepped out. A couple of young women were nearby, talking while washing clothes in two metal basins. They barely looked back at him.

"Watch the door for a sec, need a piss," Nick called in a slightly lower voice, waving a hand toward the back of the trailers.

They giggled.

"Hurry back," one of them called. "Or you're in trouble."

Keeping his face concealed by the hat the best he could, Nick made another dismissive gesture and went behind the trailer, creeping along them. Nick had no idea where they could have led her, but then there was a cry.

"What the hell is wrong with you, people?!"

Her voice. Nick forgot to breathe and hurried to where he thought it came from. It was stupidly lucky that no one lingered their eyes on him to stop his progress. When he came to the trailer he thought was the one, he waited a moment to make sure. There was a female voice saying something about the spirits again. Nick could barely make out the phrase, but there was no way it could be told to someone other than Alicia.

He pulled the gun and went in quickly, snapping the door closed behind him and propping it with his back.

There were the two women that took Alicia away. They were startled, the younger one gasped at the sight of the gun aiming between them, the older one seemed annoyed more than scared, but she tried to step away from Nick, nevertheless.

Alicia stood naked in a bathtub. In the back of his mind, Nick felt sorry he barged in, but the urgent survivalist part of him didn't care.

When the door opened, Alicia instinctively covered herself with her arms, indignant and furious, glaring at the man who rushed inside until she recognized his true identity. Nick.

"Get dressed," he said, snapping her out of her own stupor, and pulled the hat off, letting it drop on the floor.

She didn't hesitate. She stepped away from the women and grabbed her clothing off the floor, turning her back on them all as she pulled her jeans and top back on. Alicia didn't bother with socks this time and simply shoved her feet into her boots, lacing them up as quickly and tightly as she was able, assuming they were going to have to run. How Nick had managed to get one over on them she didn't know. But God, how she loved him in that moment.

The older woman sneered like a witch. "You're digging yourselves a deeper grave," she hissed, eyeing Alicia and Nick. "You're going to pay dearly. Where is Sam?"

Nick shrugged. "Better shut up or I'll send you to him."

"Give me your gun," Alicia said to the older woman, eyeing the weapon she had tucked away in her belt. The woman looked up to meet the girl's gaze, defiant.

"No."

Alicia's hand reached out and slapped her so quickly and so hard the imprint of her fingers still lingered on her cheek as she withdrew. Alicia wasn't even sure she had meant to do that. But a part of her hated this woman, as well as her accomplice. And she didn't feel sorry.

The woman gasped and groaned, doubling over before slowly and reluctantly handing Alicia her gun.

* * *

Katie wasn't at home, wasn't helping with the birthing of the calf and wasn't tending to the vegetable patch, and for a second, Troy convinced himself she'd disappeared off the face of the earth.

He found her in the pantry, her back to the door, whispering with another friend in the corner. A boy about the same age as her.

Her boyfriend?

From where Troy stood, it didn't look as if they were groping one another or attempting a clumsy quickie.

The boy's eyes connected with Troy's over her shoulder, widening as if trapped and then relaxed. Katie had whirled around, mouth open, her deer-caught-in-headlights expression more prominent than ever. They were both sweating.

"Rosemary sent me to get some ingredients for bread."

Neither relaxed, but after a nudge from the boy Katie finally moved. "Is—is she out of flour? I thought I-I filled it yesterday."

When she'd delivered the pie and whatever that drink was last night, she hadn't been stuttering as she was now, in fact, she'd been cheerful, friendly and oddly self-assured.

Troy shrugged noncommittally. "I just do as I'm told. I also needed the excuse to talk to you."

She stopped what she was doing and straightened up, her eyes instantly seeking her companion for help. "T—to m-me?"

"T-t-t…yeah," Troy mocked, finding his patience quickly wearing thin. He'd been playing the straight-laced believe it game for over an hour now and he was sick of it. This girl was cracking, he only needed to know why.

"Hey," the boy retorted with just the right amount of indignation to be annoying, puffing out his chest and moving to shield Katie as Rosemary had done before.

"You said you spoke to my friends when they left," Troy stated, disregarding his bravado. "What did they say?"

"I—I didn't s-s-speak to t-them directly."

If she were wearing a lie detector the needle would be going crazy.

"You didn't? Who did?" Again, her eyes drifted to her companion, silently pleading for some kind of assistance. Troy followed her gaze. "You?"

The boy looked startled with the line of questioning, deflating slightly before forcing himself to remain cool. Troy had seen this response in many people during his experiments.

"No, none of us did, alright? They just left," he snapped, jutting out his lower lip, grabbing Katie's wrist, making to drag her for the exit behind Troy. Rosemary and Henry had been so convincing in their innocence and naivety, that when these two numbskulls confirmed his suspicion it was borderline euphoric. They'd taken no more than two steps and were trying to get past him when his fist connected with the boy's face, his head cracking off the shelving like a bouncy ball, sending him to the floor of the pantry unconscious.

Not what Troy'd intended, but also not a problem.

Katie was wide-eyed and she'd screamed for all of two seconds before snapping her mouth shut.

Troy wondered why.

Actually, he didn't have to – he knew.

She was scared he'd do the same thing to her to shut her up and that the people wouldn't make it in time to save her. If they even heard her. The miracle of birth was happening and everyone was tied up.

Well, most.

"Where are my friends?" Troy repeated, satisfied that her boyfriend would be out for a while.

"I-I-I d-don't' k-know. T-they l-left."

"You're lying."

"I-I'm n-not." She was close to tears now.

"Why don't you just tell me the truth and save yourself?" he asked, keeping his eyes on her as he crouched over the boy and patted him down for weapons.

There was a knife in his boot and a twelve round handgun tucked into the holster on his hip. Troy removed both.

Katie had inched away, her back pressed against a stack of barrels. Troy slipped the gun into his pocket, twirled the knife once and swiftly drove it into the boy's right arm, using his free hand to cover his mouth and the inevitable scream as he violently came to. Either from the pain in his arm or from his head, no sooner his eyes had opened, no sooner they closed again. Katie was breathing hard, tears falling freely now, her knees drawn to her chest, unable to look Troy in the eye.

"That was a freebie to let you know I was done fucking around and playing nice. I want answers and I want truth. I suggest you start flapping those stuttering lips of yours."

"They'll c-come f-f-for m-me. Us."

"I doubt that, Gretchen. You didn't hear? Everyone's tending to Betsy."

* * *

Nick felt a jolt inside when Alicia slapped the woman. More so, as he watched his sister's face. There was not much choices left for the two of them behavior-wise, but it still hurt to see her like this, resorting to violence and rage beyond remorse for it. A direct reference to his own sins back at the other trailer. He could have killed that guy, Sam. He could have gone a blow less. But didn't choose to.

When Alicia stepped back from the woman, having claimed her gun, Nick swung his own at the woman's head. The younger one let out a strained squeal and pressed her palms over her mouth, watching her friend slump to the floor.

Nick swallowed the disgust at himself and went to her. Her eyes locked on his, wide, thoroughly terrified. He was the monster in her story. He was sorry to be, but he saw no better option. Her hands fell off her face; her mouth formed a huge O to scream when his gun knocked her out.

"We need to go for the woods, as fast as we can," he told Alicia, forcing himself to look at her. "You okay?"

It was strange watching her brother utilize violence. Even back in the day when he was desperate for drugs she'd rarely seen him resort to such measures. This new world had changed them all.

"I'm fine," she said, not meeting his eyes, instead checking the ammo of her gun. Getting into the forest was easier said than done. There were still people lingering outside and she suspected they'd take notice of the Clarks immediately if the two were to step out among them.

Alicia moved towards the window and peered outside from behind the curtain. "It's not clear yet."

"If we don't leave now, they're gonna come here," he said, replicating her ammo check. It was full. They didn't have to use it often, he guessed. "I don't know if that guy's alive, if he wakes up, if someone will wanna check why there's no guard outside anymore… We just gotta run NOW."

He looked out the window. There were more people than around his trailer. A few men, a couple of women in their twenties.

He hated it all.

"If they try to stop us, we'll have to shoot," he murmured, tried to swallow back the sickness in the back of his throat. "Shoot to kill."

Her mouth went dry again, but she nodded. The only other option was to surrender and die, and she didn't have that in her. "Let's go."

With the gun in one hand she slowly turned the handle on the door, and opened it. Silent. No one looked their way as they stepped outside. She barely dared to breathe, keeping close to Nick, observing their surroundings but keeping her head down.

They were almost out of the opening, steering behind the trailer, when one of the women called to them. "Hey, that's against the rules! You can't take her!"

"It's okay!" Nick called back, raising his hand momentarily, ushering Alicia with another one, hoping she would hurry.

"I'm gonna call Mother Elise!" the woman said.

"Go, go, go," Nick whispered, nudging Alicia forward. She trotted.

There were raised voices behind them, urging them to run. He could sense the air changing around the camping grounds; they were grabbing guns and hurrying to cut their way before they escaped.

Two men ran toward them, guns cocked, yelling warnings. One of them shot under their feet, but Nick only urged Alicia to run faster. He slowed down a second to take a shot at the armed men. One of them went down. Nick ran after his sister, the adrenaline letting him bear the pain in his chest. They were still shooting at the siblings' feet; Nick turned to return the favor, slowing down and pulling the trigger. Jeremiah taught him well. One more fell down. Nick turned and ran faster. He thought he got him in the stomach. It was nasty, but Nick wasn't willing to debate his morals again. Not before he had the luxury to stop running.

As far as he understood from the surroundings, the forest and the mountain they wanted to go to were behind them, far behind on the other side of the camping ground. They were running in the opposite direction. The chase fell back, tending to the wounded, and that was the last Nick saw. He didn't turn to look, anymore, until they crossed the highway, reached some trees, got past them, and continued to run until there was some building ahead.

Nick wasn't going to have much air left for longer, but he wasn't going to stop Alicia. She had a nice pace ahead of him, and Nick was grateful for her lungs that were capable of helping her speed.

They ran until Alicia felt like her lungs were going to explode and her legs give out from under her. Nick stopped once or twice to shoot at their pursuers and she paused to watch whenever he did, terrified the bullets they were sending the Clarks' way would find their target in him. They didn't. And soon, the gunfire stopped altogether.

They continued to run. Nick eventually lagged behind and she stopped to let him catch up, not liking the distance between them. They were both breathing too hard to speak, so when they came upon a building with a large sign reading The AS&F Foundation Dining Hall And Activity Center, Alicia simply made vague gestures in that direction.

She peered in through the windows and glass doors, checking for infected inside, but from this vantage point she couldn't see any. The brightly colored banner across the door that declared "Campers Welcome!" was spattered in blood, and didn't make her feel welcome at all, but still… They didn't have many other options.

She nudged the door open with her hip and slipped inside, waiting until Nick joined her before allowing it to fall closed behind her.

"We...can't stay...here," she panted, looking around, trying to assess the direction of the kitchen. "They'll find us...too easily. Are you okay?"

When they got to the building and past some sign Nick couldn't read because it was all blurry colors, he thought he was going to either puke or pass out. Or both. His lungs were on fire, his chest a hellish pit of agony that spilled all over his torso.

He slipped into the open door after Alicia, then dropped down on the floor, his back to the wall, doubling over to catch his breath. Alicia's voice came through the thick of pillows on his ears. Blots of red and black were dancing in his eyes. He only shook his head at her question.

When it became clear he was going to stay conscious, he looked up at her, straining to talk. "We… can't stay… here. If I killed any… of them… they will… chase."

He looked close to passing out and that probably explained why he was repeating what she'd said. Alicia decided to let that go, considering, well, everything. She just nodded in reassurance. "Check your gun. Count the bullets. I'll go check the kitchen for water, and then we leave, okay?"

She didn't know where to go or even their current location, really, but they'd have to figure that out on the move. She headed to the left, down the hallway and ducked into the first open doorway she came across. It was the dining hall advertised outside the building. The kitchen was behind it. Her gun at the ready, she navigated her way through the chaotic array of tables and chairs until she reached her intended destination. Like most of the other places they'd come across in the past it was picked clean. She tested the taps. It sputtered water colored orange, filled with rust and other substances she was not willing to put in her body. It didn't seem to get better over time either.

"Fuck."

* * *

Troy only had to stab the boy once more before Katie started singing like a canary. She'd drugged them last night with the drink and then she and her merry band of chance takers had come in and carried them away. She hadn't told him why, yet, but it was enough to motivate him into action.

"Get up," he demanded.

"W-What?"

"I said get up. We're going."

Katie stared at him, eyes glassy and red from crying, and then she slowly climbed to her feet. "W-where a-are w-we g-going?" She was speaking so softly he strained to hear her.

Stone-cold killer.

Troy'd have laughed if he didn't feel this entire thing was ironic. "Timbuktu."

He strode toward her, grabbed a hold of her upper arm and hauled her away from the safety of the wall, ignoring her trembling as she stumbled into him and then beside him.

"W-what a-about T-Timmy?" she sobbed, breaking away from Troy momentarily to look back at the still unconscious figure in the middle of the walkway as they headed for the door.

"He'll live."

"How can you be sure?"

"I'm not."

Another sob tore from her lips, distinctly louder and silenced as he shoved her into the wall, bringing the bloody tip of the blade up to her stomach, applying just enough pressure to make her flinch at the realization.

"Just because you're a girl, doesn't mean I won't split you from naval to nose."

He applied more pressure to the handle for emphasis. She gasped and nodded frantically.

"You're going to wipe your face, put on a smile and stick close when we go outside. You run, I'll wedge this into your back and paralyze you before anyone can pull a trigger." He drew the knife upward, not letting it slice the fabric as much as it did caress it like a lover, and let the tip come to rest beneath her chin. "Who else was involved with kidnapping my friends? Henry? Rosemary?"

She tipped her head away from the blade and gently shook her head. "J-just u-us."

"You and napster?"

She looked blank for a second. Troy sighed.

"Jimmy, Tom, Tim, whatever," he corrected.

"Y-yes," she answered, voice cracked with tears.

"Seems pretty put together for two pubescent idiots such as yourselves."

Her gaze jumped to the ceiling and then to the left. Another indication that she'd lied, that she was protecting someone – possibly a whole group of someone's. Unfortunately, Troy couldn't get the answers he wanted from her on the Ranch. Someone was going to look for them eventually.

"Is there another way off the ranch other than the front gate?"

Katie shook her head.

"Are you sure? From what I can tell about this place, about George, I'm sure he has a plan B in place in case this place gets overrun and you all need to get out safely. He'd be stupid not to. How else would he save the cattle?"

"I-I'm n-not l-lying," she entreated.

Troy hadn't said that she was, he was merely making an observation, but now that he thought about it, maybe he'd given her too little credit. He stepped back from her abruptly, heading back toward the boy, bending to grab a fistful of his hair, immediately pressing the blade to his neck as he crouched down.

"NO!" she cried, the stutter buried by adrenaline.

He drew the knife against the boy's neck and cut into the soft flesh slowly.

"Please stop! I'll take you! I'll take you."

"Would it be possible to do so unseen and with a horse?"

"N-no b-but I-I'll h-help y-you! J-just d-don't k-kill h-him!"

Troy removed the knife as if it were a favor to her, smiling as he did, grabbing a fistful of the kid's shirt to drag him away from the door and to the back of the room, to the dark corner they'd shared a few moments ago.

She hadn't run.

That was a good sign.

Troy walked over to her and raised a hand to wipe the tears from her face, gripping her chin to remind her of his promise, and then prepared to open the door. "Let's go get Fido."

* * *

Nick had to sit with his back to the wall, breathing slowly, for a longer time to be able to get up. When he managed to get on his feet, shaking with exhaustion, Alicia wasn't back yet. He peeked out the windows. There was nothing alarming at first, but then he saw some people approach.

He dashed to where his sister had disappeared earlier, finding her in the kitchen. "They're here, we gotta leave! We need a back door, now!"

Nick's appearance startled her, but as soon as his words sunk in, she dashed for him and back into the hallway. "This way."

It was pure guesswork, but once more they found themselves with very few viable options. She clutched the shoulder of Nick's shirt as they hastily rounded a corner and reached a glass door leading to a nearly empty parking lot. There were several buildings up ahead, but if the lake-people had come here, she assumed they would check them all.

The siblings crouched down, staying low as they moved across the parking lot, trying to stay out of sight.

There was not too much space to maneuver or hide. A few cars abandoned at the back of the house they were in spared them a little trouble covering the retreat. There was a bigger house across the driveway, but they didn't go there. From the short glance over his shoulder, Nick saw they were heading to it. There seemed to be four people after them, three men and a woman that looked like the one in her thirties, tough and angry.

Only two of them entered the house, the other two went around the back. And then the Clarks dashed forward, toward another building with a flat roof.

There was a stray walker wandering around there. They stabbed him and dragged inside as they went. Leaving him in front of the house was like announcing where they went. The lake-people could find them, anyway, but it felt better to not leave any bread crumbs.

There were three floors. They stopped on the landing leading to the third to catch their breaths. A few more dead came after them, and they put them down on their way here.

"So what," Nick asked, panting. "The floor or the roof? The latter means we're trapped, but we can control who gets there after us."

The adrenaline coursing through her body made it difficult to choose logic over instinct, and when they finally had a split-second decision to make, Alicia had to force herself to think.

"The roof," she said, checking her gun even if she knew she still had a full sleeve of ammo. She had yet to fire a single shot. "We can pick them off one by one if they follow."

They were both decent shots, and she told herself it wouldn't be too hard to put bullets in the heads of the living like they so often did the dead. As far as she knew, it was them or the Clarks now, and she did not want another repeat of the events with Proctor John. If she got her chance, she wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

Nick looked at her incredulously, feeling like he was stuck in some bizarre dream about to get ugly while he still wasn't sure how to wake up.

"With just these guns, we won't become snipers, Lisha," he said. "They certainly won't make it easy for you. This is the Alamo I was talking about on our way here. The very thing I feared and wanted to avoid. We go up that roof now, and we're done. We're stuck there with two choices – die up there or come down to them and die anyway. We need to try to not get trapped."

"Then why did you suggest it in the first place?!" she hissed, darting after him down the stairs and outside.

He trotted down the stairs and back to the first floor. There was no sight of the pursuers yet, so they snuck out the back door and ran for the trees. There was a hill to the left with a water tower. Another roof to get stuck on. Past the hill, Nick recalled there should be some other park and maybe a few buildings. The pickings were extremely slim in this area when it came to hiding places. But running off into the wilderness wasn't the smartest move, either. They could easily get lost and not find their way back to Troy.

A dog was barking where they came from. They brought a dog. And Nick's old clothes were conveniently left in the trailer next to the guard he knocked out (or killed).

He grabbed Alicia's arm and ran sideways, around the hill. To whatever might be there behind it.

There happened to be a thin creek crossing their path. They stopped for a few gulps of water, then ran along it for a bit before continuing past the rare trailers and to a house sitting among a few trees.

For a long time trees and more trees seemed to be the only thing in their vicinity, but Alicia realized it was highly possible that what felt like long minutes in her tired mind may have been nothing more than seconds.

When they finally closed in on a house in a clearing, she doubled over, hands braced on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. She could taste blood, which in itself didn't worry her, considering it was a common occurrence whenever she ran for long stretches, but it certainly didn't make her feel better. The only thing keeping her going was adrenaline and the knowledge if they were caught, the lake-people would kill them both.

There were a few cars parked outside the house, but they didn't seem to have been in use for quite some time. And the house itself appeared abandoned. At least from the outside.

Alicia forced herself to straighten and looked to her brother. He didn't seem to be faring much better than herself. "Any idea where we are in relation to the ranch? The jeep?"

Nick ushered her inside the house, pulling his knife out the second he saw the walker, withered and slow, notice them from the back of the room. He appeared to be alone, wearing a uniform of a Hurkey Creek Park ranger. The siblings dropped in the chairs, doubling over to get their breathing in order.

"I have… a faint… idea," Nick confessed, wiping the knife on his trouser and sheathing it. "We're… north-west… from the ranch… far enough… north of… the lake. In the complete opposite… direction of… what I intended."

* * *

Katie stuck close to Troy as they walked for the stables, a small smile forced onto her lips as if she thought that would make her look normal and less inclined to panic.

"Lock your shit down, Kate. One would swear you've never kidnapped anyone before," he whispered.

Katie flushed and her mouth opened with the visceral need to plead her case.

"No judgements. I don't care." He really didn't. "All I want is my friends and you can go about the rest of your days abducting whoever the hell else you want."

Katie faltered in her step and stared at him in confusion and disbelief.

"Out of interest, how many times have you guys done this?"

Katie averted her gaze and bit her lip. She was wrestling with an answer. Eventually she held up a hand.

"Five other times?" he asked to make sure he was getting the correct meaning. She nodded. "And you drugged them every time?" She nodded again. "Tsk. Poor technique."

Her brows drew down and her features pinched, earning a smile from him.

The stable was lifeless when they reached it and the horses weren't let out for the day to wander in the field nearby because the dead complicated things and all hands were needed with the cattle. You couldn't release them to a cordoned section and disappear as you did in the past. You had to watch them in turns. Troy hadn't had the time to figure out their structure or how they did things but he surmised that it had to be similar to his own.

Maybe better.

Katie grabbed a blanket and a saddle and dumped them on the railing as she opened up the door and guided Fido out of his stall. He was living the life. Around him was clean water and a freshly stacked hay. He didn't appear to want for anything. Pity for him it was short-lived.

Troy patted his muzzle with his free hand, the other resting on the handle of the knife tucked into the top of his pocket. Katie laid the blanket across the horse's back and then struggled with the saddle.

It didn't take her long but he didn't help her, either.

When she was done, Troy checked her handiwork to make sure she'd buckled it up properly and they wouldn't fall off while riding, and gestured for her to get on. She hesitated and then did so, looking stiff and uncomfortable seated on top of him.

"You don't ride very often?" She shook her head. "Well, at least try to pretend that you want to. Smile."

The muscles in her face appeared to strain, as if she'd forgotten how, and overall the process looked fake.

"Forget it. Just get us out of here without making waves."

Troy removed the knife from his pocket, unrolled his sleeves and tucked it into the inside of his hand, fingers cupping the sharp edge to conceal it, arm relaxed against his body as they walked for the back of the estate.

The fencing looked exactly the same as the sides, only there was an obvious panel as you approached the back, when you knew what to look for, that was easily shifted and rolled and allowed you to exit undetected. The gateway to a lush spot he estimated they allowed the animals to visit frequently.

"Katie!" someone called as Troy tried to unlink the complex set of chains and locks. Troy didn't recognize him by name but he remembered seeing him last night. "Where are you going?"

"I-I thought I'd s-show Troy the f-field out back and w-where he can run his horse," she said, controlling the stutter, adding a smile that looked almost genuine.

He turned to Troy. "You need a key for that," he stated.

"You do?" Troy asked, meeting his gaze, smiling, feeling the girl's eyes on him before he gave her a look.

"I-I f-forgot."

Seemed a pretty big thing to forget. Only Troy didn't say that out loud.

"It's okay," the man announced with a chuckle and a passing frown, glancing between the two of them, moving to help Troy with the gate. Troy drew the arm cradling the knife closer, gaze glued to the girl as he stepped aside. The man took less than a minute to unwind the chains and to unlock the padlock.

"Your parents know you're doing this?"

She shook her head. "Y-you know what t-they're like. They'll w-worry."

"They have every right to do so, Katie."

"I-I know, Dave, I j-just…"

She glanced at Fido's back, fingers combing his mane and then looked at Troy, lingering with an intensity that was mildly suggestive to anyone that was stupid enough to believe it. Troy smiled a fraction wider at the man who looked no more than five or six years older than him.

"You look after her," Dave acknowledged. "And be back before sundown. If anything happens to her, you'll be on dump duty until you hit the afterlife."

"You got it," Troy retorted.

Troy winked at Katie, took the chains from Dave and guided the horse through the gate. He secured the chains again since Dave was still standing there, and slipped the lock into position without snapping it shut completely.

"Before sundown!" Dave mouthed as a goodbye, walking away to tend to whatever else he had to do.

"Good job," Troy praised once the man had disappeared and he was able to pull himself onto the saddle behind her. "Nice try with the gate though."

She shuddered against him. "I-I w-wasting t-trying—"

"Save it," he snapped, cutting her off, offering Fido a gentle tap of the heels to send him into a steady trot. "You do anything like that again and I'll not only paralyze you but I'll kill whoever gets in the way."

He didn't need a verbal response from her to know that the message was clear, it was written all over her body and in the way she was unable properly sync as they rode for the lake.

* * *

That wasn't exactly good news but it couldn't be helped. Alicia wouldn't have been able to lead them anywhere different had she been in her brother's shoes. There was one direction open and they had taken it.

Alicia wasn't able to sit down too long. Nerves got the best of her and soon she was back on her feet, pacing, eyeing the dirty windows for any sign of change out there.

"Is the ranch even safe if we somehow make it back there? Are they all in on it?"

She felt so stupid for having put even a sliver of trust into those friendly faces they had met there. Rosemary. Henry. Was this some sort of deal they had with the lake-people? To keep the peace?

She froze at the sound of a dog barking. No… dogs. Plural. Instinctively, she dropped to her haunches so to not be visible in the window, her gaze darting from Nick to the entrance to the back door they'd seen when disposing of the infected earlier.

"They're going to run us until we can't go any further," she murmured, some awful images of a fox-hunting documentary popping into her head. "Until we're too exhausted to continue."

Didn't mean they had the luxury to stop. She crawled to the wall and slowly raised herself enough to peek out the window looking out over the front of the clearing. Despite the barking that seemed to come from several directions, she couldn't see anyone approaching.

"Yeah, I'm already there," Nick confessed, leaning back in the chair. "I don't think I can do any more running. But I can distract them for you to run for the ranch."

Now it was her turn to look incredulous. "That's your self-destructive instincts talking," she murmured, continuing to watch the outside. "I'm not leaving without you, so you can slap that thought off your list of ideas."

Still no one in sight. The barking had quieted down as well, but she still couldn't be sure from which direction it had come.

Nick had to laugh. There wasn't much mirth in it, but he somehow couldn't help it. It was all funny in the most disastrous of ways.

"You can sue me for caring about you later," he chided, still smiling. "But before slapping it outta me, ask yourself, do you really wanna let them get you and do whatever they planned? We got no idea what it would be, but I would bet my life on it not being just a slit throat or a bullet for you. They don't draw a bath for you to just kill off, Alicia. I don't even wanna think about what that implies."

Did he think she hadn't thought of that, that it had somehow gone over her head and went beyond her understanding of human nature? She wasn't an idiot. She knew whatever those freaks had planned would be anything but a simple, easy death. But that didn't matter.

She moved to her brother, crouched down in front of his chair and took his free hand in hers, squeezing. "I'm. Not. Leaving. You," she said, making sure her words penetrated that thick, stubborn skull of his. "I love you."

It wasn't something they often told one another. It had always just been implied. Known. But he seemed to need a reminder.

The shrill sadness her words pierced him with almost stole his breath. Tears stung behind his eyes, but he didn't let them out.

Nick squeezed her hand, speaking softly: "There are things so much worse than death. I love you too much to let you go for it. The only chance we have is if you get to Troy. If they just wanted to kill us, they'd have done it already. There are rules to their crazy, and if they get to me, I won't die at once. You'll have time. I'll have time. If they get you – I don't know what will happen. I don't want you to find out."

Had the ranch been close by or had she known her way there, Alicia might have indulged her brother's need to protect her. But she would never make it in time, if she even made it there at all. The chances of her losing her way out in the forest were too great. And then everything would have been in vain anyway.

The barking started again. Closer this time.

She let go of Nick's hand and rose, her back against the wall as she looked out the window. It was too filthy to see anything out there with perfect clarity, but she would have spotted movement had there been any. So far, it was still quiet.

"No," she said in response to her brother's earlier plea. "No one gets left behind."

The dogs were going to find them sooner rather than later, he was certain. That creek was nothing serious for two dogs to search around and pick up the scent anew. Most of what Nick could count on was about ten minutes. Probably less.

"You're making a mistake," he reasoned desperately. "Crazy people like their rituals to be closer to the night or during. We got plenty of time before the sun sets. You can get to the mountains ridge over there, then move along it to the right, all the way, until you reach the ranch. I'm sure it's there. It's maybe not even a full hour on foot. They could still chase you, but you'd have a head start. Just get to Troy and those people, the parents – they don't know what's going on. They're not a part of it, I don't think they know. They'll help you. Us. Just go."

Déjà vu. It was just like the first night of when the world had gone to shit, when Nick had been a shivering wreck on the couch trying to battle his withdrawals until Mom could make it back with his "medicine". Alicia had intended to leave to check on Matt then, because he was sick and he was alone. And Nick had pleaded for her not to go, terrified, though she couldn't understand why at that moment in time.

Their roles were the same, but the request had flipped over. He was begging her to go now. And just like it had back then, his expectations made her furious. He would never leave her behind. Never. And it pissed her off he seemed to assume she would willingly do that to him.

"No, Nick!" she was shouting now, heat creeping up the back of her neck the angrier she became. "We either go together, or we stay and fight together. I'm not leaving you! Get that through your head."

Nick exhaled loudly, throwing his head back against the chair, shoving the annoyance away.

"How don't you get it, Lisha, the fucking stakes are not the same for you and I," he tried again, staring at her, willing that instinct of self-preservation of hers to kick into gear. "You and I are different kind of meat to them. Your price will be higher. Just please, let me TRY to help you avoid it. Please. It's not a guarantee. It's not a free ticket. It's just a chance. Let me give you a chance, so maybe we both get one."

He forced herself off the chair and spread his arms.

"I'll go with you, but I won't go all the way. I can't. But you have to. You have to try."

"How do you not get that if I leave you here and you die, I won't be able to live with myself?" she threw back at him, her face only softening slightly when he got to his feet and she saw how poorly he was doing.

Of course, her reasoning was the same as his, and they were stuck on the same kind of love that let neither of them step over it. Nick pulled her into a hug, kissed the side of her head. "I do get it, but you'd live knowing it was what I wanted most."

That wouldn't comfort her in the least, but she decided not to say that particular thought out loud. He'd already agreed to leave with her, and she didn't need to complicate it further. Nor did she have the time for it. She still leaned into his embrace when he wrapped his arms around her, her own closed around his waist. It was hard to let go knowing this could very well be the last time they ever hugged, but it had to be done.

She inhaled, staring at the ceiling a moment before her gaze drifted to the dead infected by the back door.

"Think his blood will mask our scent some from the dogs?"

He squeezed her tighter, then let go, observing the dead man on the floor. Then he pulled his knife out.

"Worth a try. We don't have time to waste."

They cut the body and started covering themselves in gore. They pulled the boots off and soaked them in the stinky blood and stomach juices. The corpse didn't have much to spare, so that was not in their favor. But they made most of what they had before slipping out and running for the ridge. The dogs were close, and they could hear the pursuers' voices. Nick wondered if any more joined yet.

They covered themselves in as much blood and slime as they could squeeze from the corpse, then slipped outside. They ran but their speed had greatly diminished, nothing compared to what it was earlier. The sound of the dogs and voices in the distance allowed them to push further than what they would normally have managed, but it still wasn't long before both of them seriously began to struggle again.

Alicia's hand locked around Nick's wrist, terrified he would somehow be snatched away from her during their clumsy escape, especially now the world around her became blurrier and harder to focus on under the burning sun.

They slowed down to almost a crawl when Alicia's hand clasped around his wrist, making him wince. The bruised trace of his previous heroics let him know it was still there.

"Come on," he wheezed, pushing himself to move.

They trotted between the trees, and then they could feel how the slope had started. That was the ridge. A bit farther ahead, they came across a big boulder surrounded by trees.

Nick leaned against it, bending to catch his breath. He tasted copper in his mouth and felt he could collapse any moment.

"You should go on," he told her when he could talk, and raised his arm showing the direction. "There, along the ridge, keep to the trees and rocks, you'll get to the forest and the ranch. If they get to here, I'll slow them down. If they won't, I'll follow you. Go, Lisha, make it all count. Please."

Her breath got stuck in her throat when they finally stopped, and she felt as though she couldn't get enough air in her lungs. Her feet were hurting, as well, her boots having chafed the skin at her heels for miles now.

She struggled, hands on her knees again, forcing herself to listen to Nick, eyeing the direction where he pointed, shaking her head until it hurt.

"I...can't...leave...you," she breathed, like it was a mantra nailed into the very root of her being. She clutched her side, looking around for options. Nick wouldn't make it much further, and to be honest, neither would she. But there weren't really any good places to hide here, not within view anyway. If they stayed and the lake-people successfully tracked them, they would find the Clarks easily.

Rubbing her hands across her face, she breathed a frustrated sigh, tears stinging her eyes. "How many bullets have you got left?"

Nick wasn't going to check, he didn't care. "About seven, maybe. If there were thirteen to begin with."

He looked back to where they could expect the chase to appear. None so far, but he could hear them in the distance.

"Just go, don't waste time, give us a chance, come on, Lisha, go. Please, just go. Get Troy. You'll save us both. Please."

When he didn't respond to her question, she yanked his gun away and handed him hers. There were still ten rounds left in her magazine, giving him a bigger chance of taking anyone down should they come at him.

She pulled him on for a one-armed hug, trying hard not to cry as she whispered: "I'll come back for you. Don't let them hurt you. Shoot to kill."

It was roughly the same he had urged her to do before they escaped the trailer earlier.

Then Alicia turned and forced herself to jog along the side of the ridge, as quickly as she could manage without tripping over her own feet. She didn't turn around to look at him. Couldn't. She'd lose her nerve and return instantly if she did.

But she couldn't fight the feeling of wrongness lodged in her chest as she ran. Everything about this was wrong. It felt as though she had just pulled the trigger on Nick herself.


	13. Chapter 13

**THE CHOSEN ONES — PART 3**

A comber of relief, however meek, rolled through Nick as she caved. He hugged her, relishing in this moment, hoping, praying she would make it. That he would be able to slow them down enough.

Nick was glad she didn't look back as she jogged away. It didn't need to be any harder. It was lucky he talked her into leaving at all.

He snuck around the boulder, leaning against a tree as he watched the slope. It wasn't a full five minutes before he saw the dogs. Two husky-sized dogs sniffing the ground, whining.

It was a shame, but Nick sucked in a breath and aimed. In the last second, he shifted the gun and shot at the ground under the paws. The dog jumped, startled. They both started barking, not daring to come closer. The trailer gang gained in another half a minute, urging the dogs to venture forward again. Nick cursed, aimed and shot. One of the men went down screaming, gabbing at his thigh. The woman kneeled by his side, others opened fire at the boulder. Nick cowered behind it, thinking their rules didn't overweigh their anger.

But then someone yelled at them to stop. They argued, but Nick couldn't make anything out over the dogs barking. He peeked out and saw they leashed the pets. It was good. He didn't want to shoot them. It felt nasty. More so than shooting people, and the idea alone made him a bit sick.

"You can run but you can't hide!" the woman called, rising to her feet as her wounded companion was being helped to sit against the tree by two others. "This is the end of your road, so why make it so hard on yourselves and so easy on us? You wasted all the stamina you needed, sillies. Surrender, unless you want us to make you hurt more."

Nick aimed and shot. The bullet hit half a foot before her boots. She fell back a step instinctively, but chuckled.

"This ain't gonna help if you shoot us. You don't have enough bullets."

"Next one goes into you," Nick called back, checking him magazine. "I don't wanna shoot you, but I will."

She seemed amused, squinting against the sun, shielding her eyes with a palm. "Right. Well, you wounded two now, and shot one of ours dead. It's severe and deserves some payback. Surrender now, and your girl won't pay for your shit. Come on, it's a fair deal, and it expires in twenty seconds."

Nick sighed, noticing how all the aches and pains harbored in his body started to pour into one huge pool that grew into a tall wave of suffering within ten seconds of what she counted. He was so damn tired. He just wanted to lie down and die. But Alicia deserved to not have her chance screwed up.

"Five seconds," the woman called.

"Just shoot the sonofabitch," the wounded man growled.

"That's primitive," she threw over her shoulder, then turned to scan the rock Nick was behind. "Come out now. Or you'll be sorry you didn't."

Nick thought of all the times he could have shot Troy and didn't. He thought of Ofelia's face when he glimpsed her that night at the ranch before the poison screwed him over. He thought of Jeremiah and his last words before Nick put a bullet in his head. He thought of Calvin, of their talk in the diner before he took Nick to slaughter.

Nick aimed and hit the wounded one in the head. The two men tending to him cursed, scooting away, all covered in brain spatter and blood.

Then they started shooting. It was a thunderstorm, deafening and disorienting. Wood splinters and chips of rock flew over Nick. When they slowed their fire one per few seconds, Nick prepared to try again, but the dog's jaws yanked at his arm. It got the jacket sleeve, luckily, and he shot it and shook the sleeve free.

And then the world tumbled, and Nick's temple exploded in a load of painful firecrackers. In a blurry series of visions, he saw a few silhouettes over him. Something clicked, and he felt a prick in his shoulder. It was… a dart.

"Bang, you lose," the woman said before the world went grey and black.

* * *

Alicia ran as quickly as she was able, for as far as she could. She couldn't tell how much time had passed since she left Nick but it already felt like an eternity. There had been no sounds of gunshots or screams of pain, and that soothed her some. Until she realized she was probably too far away to have heard them, anyway.

Eventually, she had to slow to a walk. Then a stumble. She was panting for air and her head was killing her. But she continued, thinking of Nick. He needed her. He needed her to get Troy.

Her foot caught on a raised tree root and she fell onto her hands and knees. That hurt, too, but didn't do nearly as much damage as that traitorous feeling of defeat closing in on her.

Alicia had to at least be halfway to the ranch now. She could make it.

She was about to push herself back on her feet when she heard rustling between the leaves to her right. She stared at the shrubs there, eyes wide, heart in her throat.

_Please, be a deer._  Hell, she'd even take an infected. But it was neither.

It was a great big dog that burst from the bushes and rushed for her. Alicia raised her gun and shot at it without even thinking. The bullet struck right between its frothing jaws and it fell to the forest floor with a brief whine. Then silent.

Shakily, Alicia got up, backtracking a few steps until she could find her balance and the right direction. She didn't make it five feet before something huge and hard slammed into her side and brought her back down on the ground. She struggled to turn around and caught sight of a huge man. He was built like a linebacker and more bear than human. He was on top of her, pinning her, prying the gun from her hand and throwing it out of reach. Then his giant fingers closed around her throat, squeezing hard. He grinned down at her as she gasped for air, gleeful and excited.

"Caught myself a pretty, little rabbit," he sneered, just before her world went dark.

Alicia seemed to dip in and out of consciousness in the time that followed, unable to comprehend much except for a familiar female voice calling out.

"Hey! She's not yours to touch!"

"Yet." The man growled, throwing Alicia over his shoulder, carrying her weight with ease. "Let's just get 'em back to camp."

Again time became a blurry concept. Most of her semi-conscious moments were experienced upside down and with a view of the fallen foliage. Alicia could have sworn they spent some time in a car, but when the hazy fog crowding her mind slowly dissipated, she wasn't sure anymore. She did see her brother, though. Someone hauled him away none-too-gently and stowed him in a trailer. The people who watched him spat in his wake. They seemed angry.

"Nick…" Alicia wheezed, surprised to hear the sound out loud. The bear-man whose shoulder she was carried on, flipped her around like a ragdoll until her feet feebly connected with the ground and he could hold her up by her throat.

His hold on her was agonizing, and tears briefly sprung to her eyes before another female voice ordered him to let her go and transfer her into the care of the girl from before.

"I'll be seeing you soon," he whispered in Alicia's ear before handing her over. Someone took hold of both her arms and half-carried, half-dragged her back into the trailer where Nick had found her earlier.

The woman who had come for them in the forest was not present this time. She'd been replaced with another young girl. The two of them repeated the ritual from earlier, only this time they were the ones to undress Alicia, probably realizing she could not make much of a resistance at this point, but nor would Alicia be much of a help.

The warm water was dangerously soothing, and despite her attempts at staying awake, Alicia dozed off for a few minutes here and there.

The next time she fully woke she was laying atop a cot, dressed in a white linen dress that had probably found the height of its popularity sometime in the 1800s. It was sleeveless and reached to her ankles, the fabric cinched just beneath her breasts as if they were supposed to be on display.

"Do you feel okay?"

It was the young girl from before. She was sporting a cut on her forehead from where Nick had hit her, but she no longer seemed as frightened. She perched on the bed beside Alicia and held out a bottle of water.

"You should drink something. There's bread, too."

This kindness confused Alicia. She lifted herself up on her elbows, regarding the girl warily.

"Where's my brother?" It hurt to speak. Her throat was sore. Almost like the time she'd had strep throat as a child.

The girl smiled gently. "He's safe. You'll see him later."

She pushed the bottle into Alicia's hand and Alicia accepted it, but didn't drink. The girl rose and went over to a nearby table, pulling a cloth away from a basket to reveal slices of homemade bread.

"What are you going to do to us?"

The girl was silent a moment, unwilling to meet Alicia's eyes. But she still smiled.

"You've been chosen," she said, a direct repeat of what she had told Alicia before. "It's a great honor."

Alicia swallowed, winced at that, and let her head fall back against the pillows.

* * *

Waking up was a bad experience. It took a long moment to put all the pieces together in his foggy brain. Nick found himself in the familiar trailer. A couple of blood drops dried on the floor, a few smeared – from his own wrists. They were bound behind his back once again. From the feel of it, there were three zip ties this time: one on each wrist, hooked together, and one more tying them both. He wasn't going to get out of this combination.

Nick sat up, grunted, and leaned against the wall, trying to get his wits together. His temple was pounding, probably blooming with a new bruise, and he felt utterly exhausted. That tranquilizer dart had stuffed his head with cotton.

He glanced at the window. The sun was still up and shining. Nick dared estimate it was about one or two in the afternoon. It was going to be a long day. The longest and probably the last.

* * *

"You really should drink something," the girl said again, looking at the water bottle. Alicia held it out to her.

"You first."

The girl indulged her and took a sip then proceeded to take a bite of the bread. Alicia watched her a long time as she puttered around the trailer, fetching various items including a comb and rubber bands. She looked fine. Alicia helped herself to some water, but struggled to swallow any. It hurt too much going down. She didn't even bother with the bread.

The door opened and the girl from before, a brunette, entered carrying a tray of tiny glass vials. This was getting weirder by the minute.

"Fuck this…" Alicia murmured under her breath and tried to get on her feet. She swayed lightly and the two caught her before she could topple over and faceplant the floor.

"Careful," the brunette chided as they carefully placed her back on the bed. They didn't force Alicia to lie down, though. "Save your strength."

Again, the need to ask them what the hell for sprang to mind, but Alicia didn't bother. Every time she tried, she was met with the same response: You've been chosen. It's a great honor.

They sat on either side of her, brushing her hair as though Alicia was their new doll, not stopping until her scalp felt raw and sore. They added a few tiny braids and small purple flowers, dabbed some sort of essential oils along her collarbone and cleavage, and some other concoction Alicia didn't recognize on her forehead. They murmured nonsense about spirits and blessings and sacrifices that needed to be made. In the end, Alicia tuned them out, relaxed as best she could to gather her strength for whatever was coming next.

* * *

As Nick sat with nothing else to do but try to think and take inventory of himself, he noticed the jacket was gone. It contained most of the gore, and he guessed that was the reason.

Sometime later, the door opened, and the woman that chased the siblings with her group came in. She wore a sardonic smile.

"So, was it worth it?" she asked, her arms folding.

"Which 'it' do you mean?"

"Any you can think of," she shrugged. "Was it?"

He thought about it a moment. "It was worth it to try to get away from you crazy lot," he said, regarding her with a tired interest. "I'm not proud of shooting at your people, even less so the dogs, but given you kept chasing, yeah, it was worth it."

She looked thoughtful, mulling it over, then nodded subtly, glancing under her feet. Next, her eyes locked on him again, this time with a sharper edge. "Jack was dear to us. So were the dogs."

"I know," he said simply. "She is dear to me, too. Why did you take her?"

"She's the conduit," she said. "For the spirits. And you're the offering. You will open the door."

Nick frowned, straining to understand. It was some kind of religious bullshit, but there was logic in it. He had to get it right. Both Clarks depended on it. "What does a conduit do?"

She seemed to debate continuing this conversation, but then decided to humor him. "Lets the spirits touch us. And you are the key. Who are you to her?"

Nick wasn't sure if it could bring any more harm to say the truth. "Brother."

She smiled, her brows rising in brief display of pleased surprise. "The better. Blood is the best key when it's the same. It was worth it chasing you." She shrugged. "I thought you should know in return."

A knock on the door. She cracked it open.

"All clear, let's do this."

"Okay," she turned to Nick. "Get up."

"Why?"

"Because I'd like to not beat it out of you, if you please? Because I don't mind – Jack was my family."

Considering it reasonable enough, Nick struggled to his feet. She pulled a gun from the holster, but didn't point it. She gestured at the door with it.

"Go ahead. Don't let me assist you."

Nick obeyed. His head hurt enough as it was, and he felt he needed it clearer for whatever the pagans had planned.

The woman and an armed man escorted him to the trailer he found Alicia in earlier. The tub was half-filled. A bucket with water stood next to it. A heap that he recognized to be his old clothes rested on the floor next to it.

The man stayed outside while she cut the zip ties, then nudged Nick toward the tub with the gun muzzle in the back. "Wash and put your stuff on, you got fifteen minutes. Starting now."

Nick turned to look at her, expecting her to leave him to it. She leaned against the wall, her arms folded, eyeing him ironically. Nick started to peel off Sam's clothes.

The water was probably straight from the lake, cold. When he was done and reached for his shirt, his teeth were clattering, his skin covered in goosebumps.

"So how does that key-conduit thing work?" he ventured once again.

"Your blood will unlock the door," she replied like it was something as trivial and obvious as the color of the sky. "The spirits shall come into her and be with us. It was promised for this moon."

Nick was balancing between irrational fear at how dangerous fanatics could be and anger at their making them a part of their crazy-ass shit they never asked for. The sheer unfairness of it all was stabbing him repeatedly. Deep down, he felt a pang of regret he didn't kill Sam. Would have been one asshole less.

She put new zip ties on his suffering wrists and escorted him back where she left him sitting on the floor, sort of clean and waiting for whatever doom they were cooking for the Clarks, the chosen ones.

* * *

Once they finished up at Henry's place, Troy took the girl to the cabin they'd parked the jeep in front of. Thankfully, it was still there when they arrived and untouched.

Troy didn't like leaving it out there, exposed, but as of yet those trailer loonies hadn't come up this way and there was nothing to be done about that anyway.

Maybe because they didn't need to.

Katie held the box of explosives, fear radiating off her like fever.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. He dumped the weapons from the container into the box. He could see her look at them with deep consideration and near longing, and part of him wanted her to try for it.

The vindictive part that thirsted for blood in retribution for what she'd done to his friends.

He unscrewed the water bottle, filling it up from one of the larger ones they'd found.

"You want? It's probably not as tasty as last night's concoction but it should do."

She shook her head. He smirked and took a long sip, shutting the doors, gesturing for her to walk toward the cabin. The blankets were still outside on the railing where Alicia had left them to air out.

Once inside, Troy emptied one of the clothing bags he'd found in the car parked in the garage and stuffed all the weapons into them, along with the recently filled water bottle.

"How many of them are there?" he asked.

It hadn't mattered before because he didn't know how much and what he could get his hands on.

Katie stared at him. "W-what are y-you going to do?"

He blinked, dumbfounded and a lot annoyed. "I'm going to invite them over for thanksgiving dinner," he snapped sarcastically. "What do you think I'm going to do?"

"Y-you c-can't do it."

Did she really think he was going to? What the hell was she on about? Did her brains rattle out of her ears on the last trip over here or was she having a premature breakdown?

"You c-can't kill them."

Ah. He screwed the scope back onto his rifle, checked the ammunition and slung it onto his shoulder.

"You d-do that and you'll ruin the ritual."

"This ritual… that… involves my friends, right?"

She swallowed thickly as if it had only just occurred to her how close they were.

"What do you think we've been doing for the last half hour? Gathering ingredients for a cookout? Katie. Use. Your. Brain. Or at least what's left of it. You're not dead yet."

Her eyes welled up and no part of him felt a stitch of pity for his malice, hell, his father had said worse to him on any given Sunday. It would make her stronger – in time.

"Again." Troy straightened up and removed the knife. "How many of them are there? Do they have weapons? What kind? How many men? Women? Are there children?"

_Anything that I could leverage that would be worth a damn besides you!_

She was fully crying now, sobbing obnoxiously. He hated that sound almost as much as he loved the sound of the safety snapping off a gun.

He grabbed one of the cotton shirts he'd dumped on the floor and cut it into ratty strips, knotting them together to make them longer before winding them around the trembling girl's ankles. Her shock sliced through her cry and her hand immediately lashed out to grip his shoulder, as if somehow that was going to stop what he was doing and he'd see reason to her madness.

When Troy was done with her ankles and satisfied that they were cutting enough circulation to be uncomfortable, he took a hold of her wrist, hauled her to her feet and wrenched her arm behind her back to tie them together. He wasn't gentle about it, either. The only punishment he could afford at this moment.

"My parents will look for me! Dave knows I left with you!"

"And just what do you think Dave and your parents will think when I tell them you've been fooling around with human sacrifice? The occult?"

It had been a test, but from the way she flushed and turned a shade of extra white, he could tell that maybe the older generation didn't know what their spring chickens were getting up to.

"Oh," he taunted with a grin, dropping the knife onto the open weapons bag, scooping her off her feet and onto his free shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Someone's going to be grounded when they get home."

Troy picked up the bag and carried her outside, clicking his tongue to call Fido as he headed for the garage. The horse trotted over as if he'd been with them forever and knew what to listen and when to ignore a command.

A good dog.

Troy dropped both the girl and the bag onto the ground and opened the large door, grabbing the back of the girl's shirt to drag her into the depth of the space. She kicked and writhed as the ground tore whatever flesh came in contact with gravel, struggling to sit up as he let her go.

Next, he retrieved Fido, slipping him into the safety of the garage to act as a companion to the girl and more importantly to keep him safe. If Troy left him outside unattended and he got killed, when Troy managed to rescue Nick (and Alicia) he'd never hear the end of it from the Clarks.

"Comfy?" he asked rhetorically, stepping in front of the horse as he tried to escape, pressing a hand gently to his muzzle to coax him back. There wasn't time for water and there wasn't time for more grass. "Keep an eye on Fido."

With that, Troy stretched up for the edge of the door and shut them inside, confident that the girl wouldn't scream and that even if she did that she wouldn't be heard. He picked up his bag, slung it over his free shoulder and resolutely headed for the trees to make his way to the trailers.

* * *

The next time the door opened to Alicia's trailer, a woman in her fifties stepped inside. She was tall and slender, had long greying hair that fell beneath her shoulders, and deep laugh lines around her eyes. They made her look deceptively friendly.

Both of the girls beamed up at her, watching her reverently, with the utmost respect and something akin to adoration. Did that make her a leader of this place then?

She came to stand before Alicia and held her hands out for hers. Alicia didn't take them. The woman didn't seem to mind and pulled Alicia to her feet anyway before she looked her over with a pleased expression.

"Well done, sisters," she praised the younger ones, though never took her eyes off the prize. Her hands cupped Alicia's face with great care, like a mother caressing her daughter's cheeks. "You are very beautiful, child. Brave too, I imagine. Strong of mind and will. That is why the spirits chose you."

Her gaze moved around the room as if she could see something Alicia could not and she smiled. When she looked at Alicia again, her eyes fell to the bruises blossoming on her throat. The woman frowned.

"I am sorry about that. I wish Benjamin had been more careful. But we couldn't lose you. You are too important."

"Why?" Alicia asked instantly, unable to keep the anger in her voice at bay.

"You are the conduit."

"Conduit of what?"

"The spirits."

Alicia didn't understand. Did the woman mean they believed Alicia would somehow be able to communicate with whatever deities they worshipped? Or when she said spirits, did she mean the souls of those who had passed?

"I don't understand," Alicia admitted.

The older woman smiled benevolently, stroking her cheek. "It will all become clear. Soon, you will know everything there is to know. You will be one with the spirits."

The more they talked, the more questions Alicia had and none of the answers anyone provided her seemed to solve a damned thing.

The woman turned to the two girls. "It's time. Get ready."

They eagerly rose from the bed and each of them took one of Alicia's arms in theirs, leading her out of the trailer.

"I want to see my brother," Alicia called back over her shoulder at the woman.

"You will see him soon," she responded calmly, disappearing from view as the girls and Alicia headed out.

There were a few people gathered outside, seemingly packing and preparing. They all stopped what they were doing to watch the girls as they moved, and Alicia did not like what she saw reflected in their gazes as they looked at her. Especially the men. There was a predatory hunger there that made a shiver run down her spine.

Bear-man, Benjamin as the woman had called him, licked his lips as they passed, sharpening a hunter's knife on a piece of whetstone. Alicia averted her gaze to look straight ahead, finding that her breathing had become more erratic and difficult to control.

"Where are we going?"

"To the red tent," the brunette next to Alicia said, as if that explained everything. "It won't be long now."

* * *

There was a commotion around the trailers as Troy approached in a crouch. People coming and going, some with more purpose than others, a handful carrying boxes and crates and other intricate bullshit that was hard to make out but looked purely decorative. If he didn't know about the ritual, he'd think that they were either leaving or planning a rummage sale at the new all dead bazaar. Katie hadn't told him much about it out of fear that far exceeded his threats or because she was a loyalist, that or she was just plain dumb and didn't have a clue what she was trying to protect. The more time he'd spent with her, the easier it was to believe that it had to do with the latter. She was just a manipulated teen that these people had won over with fictitious stories of glory and riches and a promise to protect her from the undead.

Why else would she be in this deep? Why also would the people at the ranch simply choose to believe that their guests disappeared in the middle of the night? She hadn't elaborated on that part too much and Troy hadn't asked.

If they survived this, maybe he would.

He momentarily pressed himself against the side of a tree, set the bag down behind it and removed his rifle from his shoulder to get a closer look. There were a lot of men, a lot of women, one or two children spread out here and few dogs leashed close to their owners.

They didn't look particularly fierce but sharp teeth would slow any man down.

Troy caught sight of familiar mop of hair that belonged to Nick and breathed a sigh of relief that he was still alive. Considering the time of night they'd left, the unknown and the hour's in-between, Troy'd been worried the outcome might be different and less favorable and that all of this would inevitably lead to revenge.

And nothing more.

He didn't come out again and then another door opened a few moments later, displaying another familiar figure as she was forcefully guided toward what Troy assumed was her chariot.

Where were they taking her? Would Nick be going, too?

Whatever they were planning was in motion and Troy could sense that he was going to have to act fast. He removed a handgun, the machete, some bullets and a couple of the homemade explosives, tucking them into his pockets and around his waist strategically, wishing he had an actual holster or ammunition belt to make things easier.

He fell to his knees, dug a shallow hole beside the tree and clumsily covered the bag with the sand.

It wasn't the best but it was concealed enough to fool someone from a distance.

He picked up his rifle again, raising it as he ran down the sandy incline, staying close to the ground and close to the trees that had faded out in parts and taken his cover with it.

He'd made it as far as the first line of trailers on the outside of the little township without a hassle. He shrugged off the rifle as it would be no use to him in close combat and hid it beneath the trailer where he could get to it.

He freed up his gun, along with a stick of homemade dynamite and lit the latter, giving it a couple of seconds before he'd tossed it over and into the middle of their collective group. Troy didn't wait for the bang he knew was coming and ran from trailer to trailer, tossing the few explosives he had until there was one left.

Shouts broke out in unison and bullets started flying.

* * *

Nick couldn't get warm for a long time. He sat shivering as the images and thoughts fluttered around him, some touching and some grasping to claim all the attention, presenting all the things he had done wrong and all the good chances he had missed. Showing him from different angles the simple truth of how far he still was from what he wanted to be. How much shit he had chosen to do that never got him anywhere he hoped to get. All the killings, all the violence seemed to be in vain. All for nothing. As it always had been when he tried to do the right thing and got it worse, and even worse when he went for a deal with conscience and did the wrong things. It was all the same, all the roads led to hell.

Something exploded outside. His eyes snapped open, his pulse jumped and took off galloping. Another explosion – this time closer. He could feel the tremors in the floor and the walls of the trailer. A few more explosions followed, peppered with gunfire. Someone was storming the camping ground, and he had a faint hope he knew that someone.

Had Alicia gotten to Troy, after all? Had she managed to escape? Had they lied to Nick about all that conduit shit?

The shooting and yelling went on for a while. Nick couldn't make out anything specific, nor guess how it was going. When it all went quiet, leaving the muffled voices, he felt his hope seep out of him like sand from a crack in the hour-glass.

He heard some footfalls approaching. The door opened, and two men dragged in a third. They deposited Troy in the other corner. His hands were tied behind his back; he was unconscious. A bleeding cut on the side of his forehead where the hairline started.

The familiar woman stepped in when the men got out. She jerked her chin toward Troy. "A brother of yours, I presume?"

"Adopted."

She chuckled and left.

Nick leaned his head against the wall, eyeing Troy.

_There goes the damn hope._

* * *

Alicia was stuffed into a car and whatever hope she had of seeing Nick again quickly waned. Was he even still alive? Did they keep telling her he was safe simply to keep her calm and willing to cooperate?

The two girls slid in on either side of her in the backseat, and off they went. A man looking to be in his early forties was driving and another of a similar age sat beside him in the front passenger seat, a rifle draped across his lap. They didn't openly ogle her like the others at the camp had, but she could sense their interest, sneaky glances thrown over their shoulders every now and then, excitement building. It was disconcerting and bizarre, and filled her with the urge to lunge for the door. But what would be the point? Even if she were to make it out of the car, they'd catch her in no time. Especially if Alicia faceplanted the asphalt during her escape.

The drive didn't take long. Perhaps ten minutes in total. They parked the car on the outskirts of a forest and they walked another two or three minutes among the tall pine trees in order to get to their destination.

She understood then what the girl had meant when she said they were taking Alicia to the red tent. It was literally a red tent. Only, not the kind you would use for camping. It was more of a marquee. Something one would use at a renaissance fair or in movies depicting medieval times. It seemed crazy that someone would even prioritize carrying such an item in these apocalyptic times, but then again, weren't they all crazy?

There were old carpets and rugs on the ground inside, pillows strewn about as if inviting people to come lie down. Garlands of flowers and herbs hung from the ceiling, and in the center of the tent stood a large and sturdy wooden table. It had been covered with a red velvet fabric and decorated with more flowers, apples, and some sort of ceremonial knife. There were lanterns everywhere, illuminating the room with an eerie hue that made Alicia want to flee but that seemed to have the opposite effect on everyone else. The girls at her side looked practically euphoric.

There were already a few other women here, dressed in simple off-white linen dresses. Unlike the one Alicia was currently sporting, theirs looked homemade and identical to one another.

Alicia was handed over to these other women who urged her to sit on the heap of plush pillows with them. For a moment she refused, but at the sound of a gun being lazily cocked in the open doorway, Alicia swallowed her pride and gave in.

They touched her hair, smoothing each stray strand into place, and rubbed and dabbed her arms and chest with more oils, practically grooming her while she surveyed the room itself. The knife on that makeshift altar had looked sharp enough to do some damage. If she could get to it she might have a chance.

The two girls returned before long, now also wearing the same dresses as their older "sisters", and they were wandering the tent with smudge sticks. Alicia assumed at first it was sage, what people always used in the movies to cleanse a house, but it didn't smell like it. Whatever it was it briefly made her eyes water and her head heavy. But those sensations eased up soon enough once they finished.

"Here. Drink this." One of the older women at her side held out a cup of something steaming. Alicia regarded it suspiciously.

"What is it?"

"Tea," she said, smiling gently and urging Alicia to take the mug.

She didn't, turning her head away in silent rejection of her offer.

That was a mistake. Because the four women who had previously treated her relatively kindly suddenly pounced like wildcats, holding her still, forcing her head to remain in place, squeezing her cheeks and jaw painfully until her mouth opened and they were able to pour the liquid down her throat, little by little. It hurt to swallow, but it hurt even more to cough, and in the end, Alicia simply let them carry on so it would end sooner.

They released her when the mug was empty, carefully dabbing at her mouth and chin where some of the tea had spilled and continued to treat her as if she were a doll for them to make pretty.

The tea itself hadn't tasted much, but she still felt nauseous, whether because of the assault on her body or because her stomach was suddenly full.

"Where's my brother?"

The question wasn't new, but Alicia felt they had never given her a satisfactory answer.

"He's safe. You'll see him soon," they intoned in unison, as if this was something they had practiced.

She briefly clenched her fists in frustration.

"What are you going to do to him?"

"We aren't going to do anything to him," one of the women said, her fingers combing through Alicia's long hair. She'd put significant pressure on the "we" part.

"He is the test. The trial. You are the reward."

* * *

When during the battle Troy'd seen black and been hit by something from behind, he'd anticipated it to be for the last time and that finally—like Jake, his mother, Jeremiah—he would understand what was waiting for them on the other side of this warped experimentation, and as always, internally he'd accepted it. Only that wasn't what happened, and for the second time that morning he woke up with raging headache. Troy didn't believe this one was as much drug induced as it was centered on a throbbing on the side of his forehead, an estimation he found he couldn't confirm or alleviate as his hands were tied behind his back.

His first thought was:  _why the fuck hadn't they killed me?_  And his second, well, that was semi grateful and more urgent once his company came into view.

"Remind me again why you didn't want me to kill these people when we got here?"

Nick heaved a sigh, feeling like chuckling inwardly, but unable to perform it.

"Because all life is precious until you gotta fight for your own." He regarded Troy with lazy interest. "How come you haven't done it while I wasn't there to stop you?"

Despite the headache and their dire situation, Troy rolled his eyes. Was Nick shitting him? All life was precious until you fought for your own? What kind of shit had they been feeding him?

"Have you been stuck in this closet the entire time? Have you seen the amount of people out there? I hoped for a better outcome – to at least – kill half of them or maim them, but I saw your sister being led away to a car, assumed you were next and reacted. There wasn't much room for a decent plan. How come they haven't killed you yet? What's this ritual about? Can we get out of here?"

Nick stared at him awhile, his head spinning in failing attempts to catch up to the questions. Alicia… a car… what was going on and had they already started?

Nick winced, trying to focus. "There's enough of them. A small group of five chased us for an hour as we tried to escape. I made Alicia run as I stayed behind to slow them down, but I guess that didn't work. Nor did your solo rescue mission – nice job, by the way. How did you even find out?"

Pity Troy hadn't made it here in time when they were on the loose. The three of them might have stood a chance of overpowering the loonies and wiping them out. Troy still was going to when he got the chance.

"You're welcome," he stated as sarcastically as his praise was, bringing his legs up along his side, forcing himself to sit up so that he could attempt to free his hands of its unseen restraints. "Katie. The girl's a few screws short of actual sense."

That was the least of their concerns and he'd scarcely answered any of Troy's necessary questions.

"Where are they taking Alicia?"

* * *

Nothing happened for a long time. They seemed to just be waiting, but no one would tell Alicia what they were waiting for. The two men standing guard outside of the marquee were communicating with someone else through walkie-talkies, but she couldn't hear what was being said on either end.

Her nausea grew, and for a while Alicia was tempted to lie back against the pillows behind her. But she didn't, wouldn't allow herself. It made her all too vulnerable.

She fixed her gaze on a particular blue flower hanging from the ceiling, deciding to focus only on that to push the nausea and exhaustion to the back of her mind. She tried to pull Nick to the forefront, to keep the image of his face bright and clear before her inner eye, to take strength and courage from him. She needed to be strong. For her brother.

But something about that flower kept distracting her, stole all her focus. It shimmered with the strangest colors, transforming from blue to green and a hint of orange. That was strange. But it was beautiful and enchanting. She wondered what it would taste like. Would it be sweet like fruit? Or bitter? Was it poison?

She reached for it but it was too far away. The woman next to her smiled and took Alicia's hand in hers, lowering them to the ground between them. She hummed a melody that was soothing, but it sounded distant, as if her voice was trapped in a metal container.

Alicia blinked slowly and looked at her throat as she sang. So passed the next ten minutes.

* * *

Nick shook his head subtly. "They don't really like explaining shit. They said some weird stuff about the spirits and her being a conduit while I'm a key or something… The only thing that's clear to me is she won't like any of it. Nor will I." He reflected a moment, then added: "They loved finding out we're siblings. Something to do with blood. And that's also painting a vivid picture for me. They're gonna murder me and do some nasty shit to her in the name of some spirits. And then probably kill you, too." He regarded Troy. "Is there just one zip tie on you?"

Troy suspected the crazies were going to do all that gross shit and they were still sitting here talking about it? They should be gnawing through each other's restraints with their fucking teeth!

He tugged at his wrists, feeling for what he assumed was in fact zip tie biting into the abused flesh but Troy didn't care – only his head wouldn't allow him to flourish.

He nodded despite the strain.

Whatever they'd hit him with had produced quite the punch.

"When we get out here and I murder these people. We're going to confiscate their shit."

He kept trying though, gritting his teeth, threatening to grind them down and then stopped as a muscle tweaked painfully and threatened to seize into cramp.

_Dammit!_

Using his shoulders and numbing fingers, Troy levered himself into a straighter position, brought his knees up beneath him and slowly started to crawl toward Nick, consequences be damned.

This was about timing, not eloquence.

Nick watched him struggle for a bit, then shook his head.

"Troy, just stop, listen to me. Hey, listen. Sit back, catch your breath, then find the zip tie end with your fingers and pull at it, tighten it. As much as you can."

Troy looked at him with surprise and disbelief. It amused Nick that he didn't know about that trick.

"It creates more tension in the lock," Nick explained. "The tighter, the better. When it's as tight as it gets, strain your arms, pull your elbows apart and break the tie. Won't be easy, but it's the only way."

The footfalls approached, the door opened. They stilled like two naughty kids caught at a cookie jar. It was the woman and another man waiting in the doorway. She came up to Nick with a syringe, and stuck it in his shoulder.

Troy flinched, but caught Nick's eye and luckily thought better of it. Nick couldn't shake his head or do anything but give Troy a short stare to make him play it cool and fool them. But deep down, Nick trusted he knew what and how to do. They needed to trust he was okay.

Nick's head started swimming, some weird weariness spilled through his body, his eyelids started to droop. He realized he couldn't fight it. There was no way, and that was the point. They didn't trust him being docile, anymore.

Before the world drifted away, Nick saw her check Troy's restraints to make sure.

"You be a good boy now," she told Troy, then gestured for her companion to get Nick when it was clear the sedative worked. There wasn't much time to waste, anymore. She felt a rush of excitement, as well as everyone else in their 'family'. She left Troy with a parting wink, as if it was some inner joke.

After another twenty minutes, their car parked between the trees. Through the trunks and shrubs, they saw the red tent.

"What now?" the driver asked, stepping out.

"The last preparation," the woman named Sarah said, jerking her head toward Nick. "Get him out there, to the fire."

The driver and another young man pulled Nick out and carried him after Sarah. They put him on the ground next to what was going to be a huge bonfire in the end of their fest, and stepped away.

"We're here!" Sarah called to the tent and stepped back with the men.

"Your brother is here. Do you want to see him?"

Alicia didn't know which of the women had spoken but nodded fervently anyway. Someone helped her to her feet and led her outside into the clearing. There were more people here now, and they all blurred together into an unidentifiable mass as they approached them.

There was a body on the ground next to a large pile of wood and it took Alicia a moment but she eventually identified him as Nick.

"Nick," she whispered, staggering forward, surprised that nothing held her back. No one was grasping her arms anymore and she was free to move. She lowered to her haunches beside him, one hand on the ground to keep her balance, the other nudging his shoulder.

"Nick. Wake up," she whispered again, annoyed that her brother was sleeping this moment away. Her voice sounded strange, magnified and loud, like through a microphone. "We have to leave, Nick."

He didn't stir. Didn't move a single muscle. An overwhelming sadness came over her then, and she cried silently, gently stroking his cheek to try and coax him to open his eyes, to look at her.

"Nick, please, please wake up."

Something happened but it was not what she had hoped for. Nick's face darkened as if a shadow had fallen over him. His skin rotted and peeled away in places, exposing tendons and teeth and bone. When his eyes snapped open, they were a milk-white. Empty.

Alicia screamed and threw herself away from him. Someone caught her, holding her close, keeping her from toppling over.

"What's happening?" someone asked. "What's wrong with her?"

"The energy of the spirits is overwhelming her," another replied. "She craves the blood, the release. It is time."

Alicia's legs were reluctant to move and whoever held her helped her along. She looked back over her shoulder, straining to see Nick, afraid of the sight that would meet her. But he was just Nick again. Just her brother. And they were taking him from her.

She screamed his name, over and over, but it changed nothing. He didn't wake. They didn't stop. And Alicia was taken back into the darkness of the tent.


End file.
